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THE STORY 






OF 



AUNT BECKY'S ARMY-LIFE. 



S. A. iPALMER 



NEW YORK: 
JOHN F. TROW & CO., 50 GEEENE STREET. 

186Y. 









^ Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by 
P^ JOHN F. TROW, 

i^e Clerk's Ofl3.ce of the District Court of the United Slates for the Southern 
9i. District of New York. 



i 



i 

/ 



y 



PREPACE 



In presenting the following unpretending story 
of tlie hospital-labors of Mrs. Sarah A. Palmer to the 
public, it was thought best to give it the autobio- 
graphical form, as it was found in her diarj of three 
months, and in repeated and extended conversations 
with her almost daily during the period of its writing. 

A full diary had been kept up to the occupation 
of City Point as a hospital-base, but was lost with a 
trunk of clothing, and never recovered. 

She relies on memory for tlie date of many inci- 
dents, and should they be found incorrect, begs it to 
be remembered in extenuation of the errors, that her 
mind was so filled with tbe anxiety, and her body so 
wearied at times with watching, that it would be 
strange if everything was laid away in its proper 
niche in Memory's store-house. 

There is no gild of fiction over this plain story ; 
the events are related as they occurred, and hundreds 
will attest to their truthfulness. 



Jy TEEFACE. 



That "Aunt Becky" was well beloved by tlie sol- 
diers of tbe Ninth Corps, numerous and unobjection- 
able testimonials have been received. Said one sol- 
dier, who served three years in his regiment, " I never 
knew a woman so much thought of as she was by the 
boys— she never showed any partiality— we all got 
the same attention— officers no more than privates." 

Said another, when asked if he ever knew a mat- 
ron called "Aunt Becky," in the Army Hospital; 
" Know her— I gaess I did-she saved my life ; " and 
forthwith all business was dropped for the time, while 
he hastened to iind her home. 

With no thought of publishing her hospital life, it 
was suggested to her that she should do so, as a duty 
to herself, that through its sale some provision might 
be made for her future comfort. 

With health broken by exposure, and spirit sad- 
dened by the many scenes of death which she wit- 
nessed, and the constant sight of painful wounds, she 
returned home, weary and worn, feeling, as she ex- 
pressed it, "As though she had not had sleep enough 
for years." ISTot even allowing herself a week for 
rest, she went to hard and unremitting toil again. 

It was talked of amongst the members of the 
One Hundred and Ninth Eegiment, that a memorial 
should be presented to Congress, stating what her 
services had been, and asking an appropriation of 



PREFACE. V 

two thousand dollars with which to purchase her a 
home. The " Story " had been thought of in the 
meantime, and her reply was, " Let those who would 
help me buy a book, and then they will get the worth 
of their money. If I have done anything for my 
country's soldiers, I am glad of it; but Congress has 
enough of its own little bills to pay." 

JSTow, with a heart too large for the slender frame 
which holds it, no weariness is brought up as an ex- 
cuse when a sufferer calls for aid, and her readiness 
to watch by the bedside of the sick and dying is wide- 
ly known, and many drafts are made and honored 
upon the broad humaruity which, although " the feet 
were worn through till blood wet the shoe soles," has 
not withheld its hand from those who asked and 
needed help. 

It was an undertaking from which many shrank, 
because the cry was loud, ^' It is no place for women," 
and although many dared to brave the tide, few held 
to post longer or more faithfully than she. Some 
swept with silken trains through the well-kept hospi- 
tals, ordering what should be done, and one, as she 
held up her sumptuous riding-habit with her jewelled 
hand, looking scornfully on the humbly-apparelled 
woman who was dressing a painful amputation, said, 
" That is no work for you." 

But her heart said anything was her work which 



VI PREFACE. 



would sootlie one throb of pain, and she quietly kept 
on with her task. 

There is no high-sounding record of what those 
women did, who, in plain, hoopless dress, recognized 
as army nurses, on a pay of twelve dollars a month, 
stood by the beds of death-struck soldiers — combing 
out locks of matted hair, binding up their wounds, 
and smoothing out the pillow when in the delirium 
of pain they called for mother, wife, or sister. 

Hers was a hand which shrank from no festering 
wound, which recoiled not when the blood and dirt 
of the deadly trenches bespattered the torn uniform 
— she washed away the grime of battle smoke from 
faces unrecognizable through the mask surrounded 
with the locks of tangled and scorched hair. Her 
hand fed with pitying gentleness many a one whose 
good right arm, mangled by shot or shell, lay food 
for the worms. Surely a reward should be due her 
for this faithful toil, even if the pages of her story 
failed to bring an interest to those whose hearts have 
bled, and been well-nigh broken before the stroke of 
battle. 

Many were '* Unknown " who were brought into 
those hospitals — perhaps it was her hand which closed 
the eyes of him for whom you mourn — perhaps it was 
her hand which helped to make decent the shroud 
in which your noble one was brought home to you 



PEEFACE. VU 

SO silent and cold, after the bullet had done its fear- 
ful work. 

Many years will pass away, we trust, before 
another desolating war shall sweep over onr land, 
but should the cry " To Arms," again resound over 
our hills and valleys, and our brave ones go to the 
hot affray, may her example, and the record of what 
one woman did to mitigate the horrors of the battle 
serve to endow other souls with equal courage, and 
when the Eeaper sends his unripe harvest in, let there 
be 

" No dearth of woman's nursing 
And no dearth of woman's tears." \ 

With these explanatory lines we respectfully sub- 
mit to a generous public, which will not fail to deal 
fairly, the pages of this unpretending Story of Aunt 
Becky's Army Life. 

SYLVIA LAWSON COVEY. 

Ithaca, N. Y., May 10, 1867. 



t 



OOKTEISTTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGB 

Why this Story was written. — "It is no Place for Women."— 
Fulfilling the Promise. — Braving Popular Opinion. — How more 
brave ones might have been saved. — A Memory in every 
Household. — In the next Conflict. — Leaving Home. — Home- 
sick Fancies. — Journeying to Baltimore. — The bare Shelf and 
the hungry Mouths.— Welcome from the Boys.— The Box from 
home 1 



CHAPTER II. 

My Work found.— Our Hospital Building. — Dreaming by the 
Hearth-stone.— " She will soon play out."— Fmding temporary 
Board and Lodging. — Making a new Friend. — First Experience 
in a Southern Boarding-house.— Washing " Pet's " Face.— The 
Midnight Howl.— Taking new Quarters.- Kindness of the 
Men. — Signs of Autumn. — Our Surgeons. — A slight Attack. — 
Hospital Fare.— Demise of the brindle Pup.— Good Gifts.— The 
fatal Box 

CHAPTER IIL 

Proposals for Thanksgiving Dinner. — For the entire Hospital. — 
Requisitions for the Feast.— A doubtful Survey— The Larder 



X CONTENTS. 

PAGt 

replenish ed. — Making Goodies. — Thanksgiving. — Table-cloths 
and Napkins. — Absence of Mind. — Work for my Hands. — With 
weak Lungs. — The Cure. — Moving the Hospital. — A Companion 
once more. — The new Hospital. — Catching the Pigs. — Depart- 
ure of Dr. Hunt. — Dr. Churchill takes his Place. — Departure of 
Dr. French. — Kindness of Miss Deborah Lee. — The Spring- 
time. — Her renovating Spirit 12 

CHAPTER IV. 

Our faithful Nurses. — The Nurse's Wife. — Visit to the Soldier Son. 
— What the RebeUion taught. — Going to Washington. — The 
Glory of the Capitol. — The silken Fringe. — The cunning Hand. 
— Does Gold gild Life and Thought. — Fair Faces and jewelled 
Hands. — Sunny April. — Dying, dying. — Dehrious. — "We will 
be so happy when the War is over." — Taking Home the Dead. 
— Our noble Commanders. — Visiting Camp. — May Blossoms. — 
Pickin2r Geese. — The defeated Search . . . . - 19 



CHAPTER V. 

Anxious Thoughts. — Chancellorville. — Northern Invasion. — Excite- 
ment in Hospital. — Questionable Loyalty. — Preparing for the 
Prison Pen. — The Sweep of the Whirlwind. — Armyof the Poto- 
mac. — Extempore soldiering. — Dying a thousand Deaths. — At 
last the Earthquake. — Gettysburg.— Searching for Relics. — 
Burying a Horse. — Visiting the Wounded. — No sudden Shock. 26 

CHAPTER VI. 

Beautiful Summer. — The Roast. — "Hide the Pig." — Partaking 
stolen Sweets. — Death of Private A. M. West. — The desolate 
Wife. — September Haze. — Longing for Home. — The flying 
Visit. — Moving to Virginia. — Absorbing Nature of the Work. 
Waning Autumn.— The Winter Campaign.— Chilly Rains.— 
Breaking Camp. — " Cheeking " it through. — The puzzled Con- 
ductor. — Mason's Island.— A November Ride. — The Skeleton 
Church.— Light Duty 32 



CONTENTS. XI 



CHAPTER VII. 

FAOB 

A broken Regiment. — The Long Roll. — The surprised Enemy. — 
Ghostly. — A pleasant Joke. — Going out to Tea. — The Soldier's 
Home. — Afternoon out. — *' The Molasses lick." — Going Home 
without tasting the Sweets. — The Christmas Turkey. — The 
lonely Watch. — Fear of Death. — Brighter Skies and budding 
Hopes. — A new Field. — Death of a Nurse. — The loathsome 
Pest. — The House of Cloth. — The priceless Stove. — The dying 
Boy. — The House of Death. — The Doctor deceived. — New Bar- 
racks. — White Dishes. — Visit from Miss D. — " To the Front." 
— Heart-sickness. — A Soldier's Life. — Joining Burnside. — 
*' Good-bye, forever." — Remonitions of Death. — The living 
Hope. — Heroes all. — A deserted Hospital. — A good Cry. — The 
silent Breakfast . . .38 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Nearer the Regiment. — Visit to Mrs. Youngs. — Dreams of the 
Night. — Heard from. — The Wilderness. — The Tragedy of Death. 
— Burning alive. — Dreadful Apprehensions. — Ordered to Fred- 
ericksburg. — The independent Nurse. — That horrible Bonnet. — 
Denouncing high Officials. — The first Horrors of Battle. — The 
hill-side Tent. — Dripping wet. — Dressing Wounds. — Journey to 
Fredericksburg. — The dreadful Road. — Rain and Mud. — Re- 
porting for Duty. — Assigned to the Fifth Corps. — Washington's 
Home. — " I cut it with my little Hatchet." — Hard Tack and 
Coflfee. — The Night in a Dish-closet. — Refreshing Sleep , , 47 

CHAPTER IX. 

Haunted Nights. — Ghastly Wounds. — The bloody Trains. — Heroic 
Sufferers. — The young Brave. — " Going to sleep." — Waking in 
Heaven. — " Died after the Battle was over." — Searching for our 
Boys. — Badly cut up. — Fred Bills. — The last Promise. — The 
narrow Bed-room. — " Buried in a Box." — The fortunate Dollar. 
— Outrage on the Dead. — The final Shrouding. — The Search 



PAGE 



no 



Xii CONTENTS. 

continued.— A faint Heart.— Lying low.— The Pillow of Stones. 
—Raising the Dead.—" Plagues of the Hospital " . 

CHAPTER X. 

Finding new Quarters. — Our faithful Nurse. — Twelve Dollars a 
Month. — Only a cheering Word. — Life going out, — Another 
Promise. — Content. — Unbreathed Words. — The rude Coffin. — 
Laid in the Grave. — The Resurrection. — Final Burial. — Bitter 
Thoughts. — Sergeant Starkey. — The bloody Pillow. — Getting the 
Luxuries. — Slow Movements. — Heavy Work. — Looking Thanks. 

Died of his Wounds. — No Change of Clothing.— Willie Lewis. 

My brave dead Boy. — All alone. — Humble Heroes. — The San- 
itary Commission. — Horrors of Fredericksburg. — Bloody Feet. 
— ^Valley-Forge. — Heart-rending Cries. — Agonized Surgeons. — 
The scarred City.— Night Wind and Rain. — Spirit Music. — 
Home — Wife — Children. — Dirges. — The silent Boatman. — But 
little Sunshine. — More Wounded. — Depths of Despair. — " Char- 
lie." — No more Love-letters. — " I think I am dying." — The 
crawling Worms. — The Provost Marshal. — Leaving in haste. — 
Guarding Rebel Property. — The old German. — Feeding with a 
Tea-spoon. — Almost let forth .58 

CHAPTER XL 

The long three Weeks ended. — Evacuation of the City. — Loading 
the Transports. — The dreary Night.— Agony endured.— No Help- 
not if they die.— The noble Three Hundred.— Leaving Fredericks- 
burg. — The Trip to Washington. — ^Visiting the Hospital. — Find- 
ing dying Men. — Duty done. — In the Dead-house. — My Rebel 
Friend. — The human Heart. — Avoiding Conflict. — Reporting 
again for Duty. — The Lizzie Baker. — No more " Calico." — Get- 
ting the Start.^" There they come now."— A stormy Sea.— Im- 
patient Steeds. — Hunger's Claims. — Trusting for Food. — White 
House Landing. — Desolate — desolate. — Last Year's Corn-field. 
— ^The curved Back. — Heavy Dews. — Drenched Clothing. — San- 
itary at Work. — Those little Streams. — The broad Bosom of 



CONTENTS. XIU 



the Sea. — Again, Drop by Drop. — The old Wife. — Knitting the 
Socks. — The coarse Hospital Shirt. — Tiny Pillows. — Sad as a 
Funeral. — "Blessings on you." — Only a Blanket between.— 
Crumbs from the Table. — Our primitive Fire. — Sanitary's Store. 
— Burnt Toast. — Worn out. — " Will I — can I ever get well." — 
Not sorry. — " She will remember." — The peaceful Death. — Novel 
Hammocks. — Getting desperate. — Mush and Milk. — The colored 
Tent. — The Boy Hero. — Sorrowing for Mother . . .68 



CHAPTEE XII. 

So much to do. — The strong Will. — Dead. — Gathering the Harvest. 
— Shadow of Death. — Coward Fear. — Prisoners and starving. — 
The lost Colors. — The captured Color-bearer. — Only One return- 
ed.— The Wreck of Manhood.— Rebel Sufferers.— The better 
Part. — Another Brave. — Orders to move. — Making ready. — The 
trampled Corn-field. — Looking out for Rations. — The boiled 
Ham. — ^Not enough. — So many Mouths. — Another Ham. — 
Some one had blundered. — Army wooing. — Looking out 
for the Boys. — Complaints. — Nothing to eat. — The Storm. — 
" A Man overboard." — No Help. — Sea-sick. — Ten cents a Pint. 
— Braving the Cooks. — The extinguished Fire. — The angry 
Mate. — Aunt Becky's Protest. — The Victory. — The providential 
Supply. — Opening the Boxes. — Questionable Authority. — A , 
graceful Assent. — Fortress Monroe. — Fight of the Iron Clads. — 
The silent Dread.— Full Rations.— Pickled Cabbage.— Old 
Friends. — Cannonading . '77 



CHAPTER Xin. 

City Point. — A good Dinner. — The long mile. — A Motley Proces- 
sion. — The Disappointment. — Return. — Weary — weary. — A pic- 
ture for an Artist. — Sleep — blessed Sleep. — ^Viewing the Situa- 
tion. — A bountiful Meal. — Our Work preparing. — Putting up 
the Tents. — Five hundred strong. — Near Death. — Unrecogniz- 
ed. — Hungry as Wolves. — Washing Faces. — Low Spirits. — 
Died at last. — Dr. Wheeler in Charge. — Good Fare. — No 



XIV CONTENTS. 



Tongue can tell. — Masked. — No light Work. — " Are you Aunt 
Becky." — Blind forever. — Noble old Massachusetts. — Her dy- 
ing Heroes. — War's ruthless Hand. — Plenty of Beds. — The 
Battle's Harvest. — The growing Corn. — General Burnside. — 
Two Thousand. — Dr. Johnson. — Our Cooks. — The lessons of 
Home. — Boy Soldiers. — Under the Knife, — A useless Rag. — 
My Fortress. — No Wish to leave. — Fortunate beyond Measure. 
— Reposing on Laurels 86 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Recurring Death-beds. — Bitter Sorrow. — Booming Cannon. — A Vis- 
it to the Front. — The War Horse. — Falling off. — Graves of the 
Dead. — Deserted Homes. — My Riding-habit. — The wounded 
Man. — A horrible Fissure. — The kindly suggestion. — The old 
Battle-field.— The Captain's Grave. — Greetings. — Poetry at the 
Front. — " Missus, you'd better git out dar." — Deadly Missiles. — 
Hard Tack and Bacon grease. — The Sail on the River. — Guerril- 
las. — Death of Mr. Wilson. — A Testimonial. — Division of the 
Hospital. — Diminishing Stores. — A Printing Press. — Red Tape. 
— Our Laundry. — At the River Side. — The mysterious Coil. — 
The sable Dead. — Distributing her Effects. — A doleful Spirit. — 
Dancing and Prayer. — Wooing and Wedding. — An exasperated 
lover. — The sudden Retreat .94 



CHAPTER XV. 

July Sunshine. — The bloody Thirtieth. — Making Room. — The burnt 
Dress. — The welcome Weed. — Sending off. — A Soldier's Money. 
— The Rebuff. — The persistent Nurse. — Victory final. — An 
angry Surgeon. — Waiting for the Work. — Making Chicken 
Broth. — A Sun-stroke. — Every Place full. — The improvised 
Shelter. — The wounded Rebels. — Such piteous Moans. — The 
little Drummer Boy. — " Mother will be alone now." — The noble 
Dead, — In the better Land. — Still they come. — The unrecognized 
Soldier. — Looking for the Wounded. — Broken Speech. — ^A new 
Hospital. — No Sweets of Friendship 103 



CONTENTS. - XV 

CHAPTER XVI. 

PAGR 

A Rumor of Cliange. — Bearing in Silence. — Our Mess-room. — 
Faulty Arithmetic. — The indignant Nurse. — Odd Bits. — Unsat- 
isfied. — Chief Cook. — Bottle-washer. — A servicable Cloak. — 
Kicking a Convalescent. — Anger and Bitterness. — Lifted up. — 
No Thanks to him. — Sanitary Agents. — The Christian Commis- 
sion. — The Flask of Brandy. — The dying Patient. — Poor Ex- 
cuses. — Commissary Whiskey. — Dispensing Stores. — Testing 
canned Fruit. — Man's Selfishness. — A rude Church. — The Dream 
of Childhood. — A Reading-room. — Easy Toilet. — " Saratogas." 
— Ileart Entanglements. — "Now I have got you." — The faith- 
ful Husband , 109 

CHAPTER XYII. 

Full of Sighs.—Youthful Heroes.— The last Game.— Death of Cap- 
tain Lee. — The lonely Sister. — Taking Home the Beloved. — 
Lieut. Dupree. — Staying the Soul. — The Death-bed of Agony. — 
Through the brain.— Somebody's Pride.— The little Babe.— The 
dead Father. — Blue Eyes and golden Hair. — The last Token.— 
A crowded Tent. — The Chaplain's Visit. — Fatal Gangrene. — 
Dropping away. — The Captain's Loss. — Sergeant "Woodbury. — 
The Prediction of Death. — A nameless Grave. — The lovely Sum- 
mer 118 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Playing false. — The crazy Soldier. — The rheumatic Patient. — My 
wasted Sympathies. — Cured. — Unacquainted. — The old Soldier. 
• — Thoughts of Home. — The kind Neighbor. — Going back. — 
Seven little Boys. — Darling Children. — Homesick Hearts. — Ba- 
by Jumpers. — Brother Jonathan. — Sent off. — The angry Doc- 
tor. — A dishonest Nurse. — Fife and Drum. — A dear Custard. — 
Degrading Manhood.^The lost Letter.— The confused Doctor. 
— The Guard-house. — Liberation. — Trying the Soul. — Tied up 
by the Thumbs.— Executions.— Obdurate Conscience . .124 



XVI CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

PAGB 

Change in Hospital Affairs. — Architectural Beauty. — Ceaseless 
Work. — Size of a Louse.—Long Endurance. — Desperate Forays. 
— Defeat — Defeat. — Convalescents' Recreation. — Legion. — Sul- 
len Despair. — Up to the Front. — The stylish Turnout. — "Washing 
Day. — Reaching Camp. — Loud Demonstrations. — The Memory 
of Oats. — Autumn Winds. — A sweeping Discharge. — Alone of 
my Sex. — November Rain. — No Birds to leave us. — Nature's 
free Gifts. — Naked Trees. — Active Operations. — Another Win- 
ter South. — Rebellion still rampant. — Snow-flakes. — Recruit- 
ing. — Ornaments. — The precious Chain. — Confiscated. — Pass- 
ing the Days .132 



CHAPTER XX. 

Diary. — Longing for Home. — Only a little good. — Thoughts of my 
Children. — Oh ! for the Wings of a Bird. — Weakness of Women. 
Entanglements of Habit. — Nature's Mistake. — Oh ! for Strength. 
—Bearing in Patience. — Wild, windy Weather. — Died this morn- 
ing. — The Contrast. — Like a Leaf from the Tree. — Blessed 
Healing. — Life's tempting Cup. — The Question of Peace. — Des- 
olate Homes. — Tempered Joy. — Pig's Feet for Dinner. — The 
Anniversary. — Fifteen Years ago. — Now. — Life's brief Dream. 
— Those nibbling Mice. — Murder. — Johnny-cake and Onions. — 
Another " Victory." — An Invocation 136 



CHAPTER XXL 

Diary continued. — The Relay of Wounded. — Heroes all. — Distort- 
ed Limbs. — Old faces. — An exceeding Reward. — A Mother's 
Children. — Common Soldiers. — Only a Ripple. — A hard Cam- 
paign. — Something wrong. — A Season of Rest. — Waiting for 
Work. — Oh ! what Work. — A strange Life. — Raging Winds. — 
Sad at Heart. — Who will remember ? 146 



CONTENTS. XVU 



CHAPTER XXII. 

PAGB 

Diary continued. — Bright Weather. — A Bride. — Alas t for the 
Tenderness of the Lover. — Looking afar off. — Yearning for a 
Sister. — Heavy cannonading. — Somebody's Dying. — Sick of sol- 
diering. — Floating Rumors. — Hope springs exultant. — Singing 
Birds. — Covetous. — Salt Messes. — Lords of Creation. — Small 
Practice.— Nearer Home. — Dreaming of Comforts. — Mrs. Grun- 
dy as Hostess. — Virtuous Indignation. — My Brother going 
Home. — A May Morning. — ^A Chat. — Farewell to Winter. — 
Welcome Spring. — Rain — Rain — Rain. — Welcome green Paper. 
—Furloughed.— The "Bull Pen. "—Dander to Somebody . 153 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

Diary continued. — Losing my Nose. — Building Air Castles. — Cheap 
Material. — Something substantial. — Driven out. — Waiting for 
the Letter. — Other Eyes shall read it. — With bloody Intent. — 
Tired — tired. — New Work for Rest. — Old Finends again. — Sum- 
mery Days. — " All quiet at the Front." — Rainy Days. — A dis- 
turbed Night. — Invaders. — Still raining. — Monotony. — Deserter 
shot. — Visit from Miss Blackman. — An unsolved Problem . 163 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Diary continued. — Washing Day. — Another Death. — Oh ! for the 
quiet Burial. — Weary Thought. — Nearer the End. — No Hearts 
to feel. — Bringing in from the Division Hospital, — Packing up 
for a" Move at the Front. — Heart-throbs. — Old Longings. — 
Sometime. — Wringing wet. — The wet Graves. — Rocked like a 
Shell.— The Bugle call.— Clearing away.— Flight of Time.— 
Cliildhood's Years. — Died for his Country. — The renovating 
Sun. — A gossipy Time. — Men Gossips 170 



XVlll CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

PAGB 

Diary continued. — Homesick — Melting Sounds. — The old Home. — 
General Sheridan at the White House. — A Letter. — Another 
Battle. — Surprised. — Rebel Soldiers. — A selfish Heart. — All 
powerless now. — The suffering Lieutenant. — Tired and hungry. 
— The Gun-boats near. — My Cross. — The raging Battle. — The 
cheering Columns. — The wild Charge. — Visions of Horror. — 
A useful Present. — Trying to sleep. — Sick myself. — A cowardly 
Wretch. — Roused from their Lair. — Out of Man's Sight. — April 
Skies.— A full Bed.— The Clangor of Arms.— The Wounded 
brought in. — The Fighting continues. — Dreadful Suffering. — 
A hundred wounded Rebels. — Both Legs shot away. — Richmond 
is ours. — Fourteen hundred Wounded. — The hushed Air. — 
More Deaths. — Pouring in. — Twenty-five hundred wounded Men. 
— Dying, Oh ! how fast.— Worn out. — The President. — "There 
should be a Greenhouse yonder." — Sick of Folly. — Particular 
Officers. — Flower Beds. — Lee has surrendered. — Our Chief lies 
low. — Sad and in Tears. — Death of Private Carson. — Sending 
our Effects to Washington 177 



CHAPTER XXVL 

Thinking of Separation. — Going up with the Wounded. — A com- 
fortable Sofa. — The obliging Captain. — Riding on the Oat-bags. 
The wondering Major. — Only Aunt Becky. — Death of Charlie 
Morgan. — Bare Nerves. — Anxious women. — Jubilant. — Return- 
ing on the Engine. — Our little Cut Throat. — The skilful Surgeon. 
— No more Battles. — The Promise of Summer. — A little Gift. 
— Drawing nigh. — Sad to part. — The Hospital Graveyard. — 
"Unknown." — Let them sleep where they died. — The Embalm- 
er's Tent. — Three Months of Delay.— Deodorizing. — Unscrupu- 
lous Fraud. — " Take me Home after I die." — The neglected Re- 
quest - . . 191 



CONTENTS. XIX 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

FAGB 

"Were we glad ? — Contradictory Souls. — The brooding Tent. — Leav- 
ing City Point.— The Delay.— Still at the Work.— The unfortu- 
nate Fall. — The Captain's Mother. — Wistful Eyes. — My Pay. — 
Unwilling. — Visit to Mrs. Youngs. — The gentlemanly Paymaster. 
— A Morning Call. — Paid. — Losing good Jobs. — Lately grown 
Plumage. — Division of our Corps. — At Tenlytown. — Half sick. 
— Waiting for the Tents. — Good Fare. — ^A noble Woman. — 
Every States Man. — A miserable Spirit. — " Have you any New 
York State Men under your Care ? " — Dampened. — Blessings on 
its human Heart. — Meeting old Friends. — A beautiful Lamp. — 
The false Watch. — Milking the Cows. — The Great Review. — 
Some sad Hearts 200 

CHAPTER XXVIIL 

In daily Expectation. — Sanitary Distributions. — Our Share. — Not 
Stealing certainly. — The Farewell. — Going to Washington. — No 
backward Look. — Bound for Home. — Thoughts of the Dead. — 
Not one thousand strong. — Only a little handful now. — Two 
left. — "Adieu." — The genuine good Heart. — Piling in the 
Stones. — Cheers for some. — The remembered Insult. — No Ra- 
tions. — Loaves of Bread. — Dancing for Joy. — Tearful Eyes. — 
Youth and Beauty. — The ^Empire State at last. — Leaving the 
Regiment. — HOME. — A Question answered. — The Token of 
Regard. — A sacred Memory forever 208 



THE STORY 



OF THE 



NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON, 



CHAPTER I. 

It is no record of bloody battles which these pages 
are opened to detail ; neither do I purpose to depict 
the horrible scenes of carnage which made the "Sunny 
South " one red field of flame : only to show one 
weak woman's work amongst the sufferers gathered 
up from those dreadful slaughter-plains, and those 
driven in sick and exhausted from the unwonted ex- 
posure in camp and march, this work of recording is 
begun. 

Standing firm against the tide of popular opinion ; 
hearing myself pronounced demented — bereft of usual 
common sense ; doomed to the horrors of an untended 
death-bed — suffering torture, hunger, and all the un- 
told miseries of a soldier's fate; above the loud 
echoed cry, "It is no place for woman," I tliink it 
was well that no one held a bond over me strong 
enough to restrain me from performing my plain 
duty, fulfilling the promise which I made my broth- 
ers on enlistment, that I would go with them dov/n to 
the scene of confiict, and be near when sickness or 
1 



2 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

tlie cliances of battle threw them helpless from the 
ranks. 

I found it ^vas a place for woman. All of man's 
boasted ingenuity had been expended to devise ter- 
rible engines with which to kill and maim God's 
own image; and if war was right, it was right for 
woman to go with brothers, and husbands, and sons, 
that in the time of peril the heart might not faint 
with the thought of an untended death-bed in the 
crowded hospitals, where no hand but the rough sol- 
dier's should close the dead staring eyes. 

It was something to brave popular opinion, some- 
thing to bear the sneers of those who loved their ease 
better than their country's heroes, and who could sit 
down in peace and comfort "at home, while a soldier's 
rations, and a soldier's tent for months and years 
made up the sum of our luxurious life. 

Had there been more women to help us, many a 
brave man, whose bones moulder beneath the green 
turf of the South, would have returned to bless the 
loved ones left in the dear old home behind him. 
But all alone, while the shadow of the valley of death 
was fast stealing over the numbing senses, his spirit 
went back, and his white lips murmured words which 
the beloved so far away would have given worlds to 
hear ; and we heard them, but could not repeat them 
from the dying lips. 

It is past and gone. The long agony is over, and .• 
the nation breathes free. Yet hardly a heart or home 
but holds the remembrance of some brave one, near 
and dear, who gave his life to save his country's honor. 



BRAVING POPULAR OPINION. 



On the battle-field they fell, in tented hospitals, 
within noisome prison-pens breathed out the last 
breath of life, and counted it no loss if the glorious 
stars and stripes could but follow in the path which 
they helped to clear with tired, blistered feet, and 
blood dropping from throbbing wounds. 

Should traitors again assay to grasp the helm of 
state, and the cry go up for succor, while the legions 
of young men spring armed from the North, let there 
be no words of sneering spoken to keep back those 
whose hearts go out with them, and who would gladly 
leave home, and friends, and comfort, to follow the 
brave one to the battle, and bind up his wounds when 
the day was won, and his life fast ebbing away with the 
gory stream, drawing, with every shifting sand, nearer 
and nearer the fountain. Let no one say, if war and 
its attendant sufferings be Christian, that where men 
are in the midst of the dreadful work, " it is no place 
for women." 

The One Hundred and Ninth had been gone two 
weeks, and I did not care to leave till the change 
and exposure to which the raw regiment was unused 
had wrought sickness, and made my presence needed ; 
and September 3d, 1862, 1 left Ithaca, N. Y., in com- 
pany with one of our men, who had returned with the 
body of a comrade, killed by the cars while on guard- 
duty along the railroad, at Laurel Station, Md. 

It was one of those rare mornings peculiar to that 
beautiful month. Deliciously cool, with soft breezes 
whispering in the tree-tops, then sweeping low to 
shake from the grass-blades a million of diamond 



4 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

drops. 'No bird-songs thrilled tlie still pulses of air 
like those which charm the summer mornings ; the 
deep hush of everything but soft-sighing winds seem- 
ed to rush over me with overwhelming sadness, till 
for a moment, as I thought of the two little girls 
whom I was leaving motherless, I felt a wild desire to 
return — a shrinking from the duties which I had un- 
dertaken, and sickened at the thought of dressing 
bloody wounds, of combing out hair tangled and mat- 
ted with the thick gore — of being alone of my sex at 
times in the camp of soldiers, whose trade was death. 

Tlien better feelings took possession of me, and I 
knew if they could suffer so much, and die for their 
country, I could at least give some years of my poor 
life in the attempt to alleviate their sufferings ; and I 
took up my burthen of duties again, and watched 
listlessly the changing scenes along the road. 

The cool September morning ripened into the hot, 
dusty day ; still we kept on our journey, arriving at 
Baltimore^ weary and hungry, on the morning of the 
4th. 

We went for a moment's rest and escape from the 
dust into the ladies' room, our empty stomachs sug- 
gesting the roundness and thickness of the flakes ol 
flesh which once clung round the bare ham-bone 
lying on the shelf, and the probable age of the rem- 
nant of cheese over which the sprightly skippers were 
rioting. 

We had no time to go in search of food, and our 
lunch had long since disappeared before the ravages 
of hunger, and soon were on board the cars again. 



WELCOME FROM THE BOYS. 6 

arriving at Bladensburg at ten o'clock a. m., finding 
Co. G., of tli8 One Hundred and Ninth Regiment 'N, 
Y. Y., my own band of gallant men. 

The greeting assured me that I was welcomed, and 
when we unpacked the boxes of provisions which had 
been prepared bj the hands of mothers, wives, and 
sisters in the old well-remembered kitchens at home, 
there was silence for a moment, as the heart of the 
soldier throbbed with a half-homesick feeling, then 
beat again in its patriotic measure, and voices grew 
loud and hilarious over " the box from home." 



CHAPTER 11. 

I WAS anxious to find my work, and in the after- 
noon of our arrival, Captain Knettles went witli me 
to Beltville, where the hospital had been established 
the day previous. 

The building was an old three-story wooden house, 
which had been unoccupied for some months, and was 
in a ruinous condition. No fence separated it from 
the street — no shrubs or flowers marked it as the 
former abode of civilized men and women. The 
kitchen floor was level with the ground, and laid in 
brick ; an arched fireplace yawning its black cavern- 
ous mouth at one end, and a similar one in the room 
opposite, which we used for a dining-hall. 

I could romance as I wrought on the dirty floors, 
and put my hands to the work of cleansing. I could 
speculate on the joys and sorrows which had been 
bom and nursed, and had died beside that hearth- 
stone ; but the half hundred men who, sick mostly 
with fevers and measles, lay on the damp, dirty floors 
— no pillows for the restless head, no beds for the 
aching body, nothing but the two blankets which each 
had drawn for covering, and pillow, and bed — all this 
forbade long speculation; my heart ached for their 



MAKING A NEW FEIEND. 7 

hard condition, and studied how best to make them 
more comfortable. 

I was ejed curiously by the strangers in the hos- 
pital, and overheard whispers of " She will soon play 
out," '' It's a new broom that sweeps clean," as I went 
into the work with a will. I laughed to myself, for I 
knew my own strength. I had not come to the 
South with any purpose of shirking my duty wher- 
ever it lay. 

They had provided no room for me, and I was 
obliged for the present to find some place in which to 
sleep and eat. I was fortunate enough to obtain board 
and lodging at the next door, where my room was 
with a crew of as hateful specimens of humanity as 
ever had a stepmother do duty over them. 

I returned to Co. G. the next day, and stayed with 
a Union family named Boughtnot, where I met with 
a Mrs. Youngs, a cousin of Mrs. Southworth's, the 
authoress, and to her I took an exceeding fancy. Al- 
though " secesh " in principles, and her whole heart 
in sympathy with the rebel army, yet she nursed 
many a poor J^orthern soldier back to life, and gave 
him again to his country to fight those she loved. 

My return to the hospital, and the beginning of 
its routine, was marked by my first meal at my new 
boarding-house. It consisted of the favorite dinner 
of boiled vegetables, and the seasoning of the whole 
cabbage came on to my plate alone, in the shape of a 
huge angle- worm, intact. 

I thought, every one for himself, and ate my dinner 
in silence, keeping down as best I could the rebellious 



8 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

upheavirigs of my stomach, wliicli hardly relished such 
sauces of the ground. 

At tea-time, I got in before the meal was ready, 
and found the mother holding the yoimgest "pet" 
on her knee, making him tidy for the appearance of 
the strange *' hospital woman." 

" Sisey " had put on her dishwater, like a thrifty 
housewife, before the meal, and it being quite handy, 
and " pet's " hair in tangles, "Ma " wet the comb 
therein, that the curls might more readily yield to 
the gentle pulling process. That over, and the hair 
in order, the dishcloth, which lay handy on the table 
corner, was called into requisition, to wipe the dirt 
from the little snubby nose and freckled face, greatly 
to my disgust. 

Think of it, when I was hungry, and waited for 
my supper ! 

All night a brindle pup belonging to tlie owner 
of the house kept up its howling, driving sweet sleep 
from my eyelids, and bringing to mind the old super- 
stition, that death was waiting for some one without 
those doors then following thought over to the hos- 
pital, where, in the languor of fever, some were listen- 
ing to the call. 

For five days I endured the bad meals, and the 
night's disturbed repose, when I told the steward I 
could stand it no longer. The nurses gave me their 
own room, and fitted it up very pleasantly for my 
accommodation. They w^ere all so kind to me that I 
felt fully repaid for all privations which I underwent, 
and tlie consciousness that I was doing some good to 



A. SLIGHT ATTACK. 9 

those sick and suffering men, soothed down the home- 
sickness which would come, now and then, at thought 
of children and home. 

The Autumn was mellowing the tints of the trees 
— the strange trees, and the bristling pines shot up 
like lances against the blue sky, while I looked away 
to the l^orth, and pictured to myself the fearful aspect 
of the hills, and the low-lying ' valley s, while around 
me the foot-prints of War wore plainly into the trod- 
den dust. 

Our trio of surgeons, consisting of Drs. Hunt, 
Johnson, and French, were very kind to the men, 
treating them like patients at home, willing and able 
to pay the just fee for attendance, not as in after 
months I saw men treated, while my woman's blood 
boiled up, and run over — when a man was less than a 
dumb beast, because if he died there was no ma:^ket 
value lost. 

I had been in Hospital three weeks, when I was 
prostrated with an attack of pleurisy, which kept me 
from duty a few days, and 1 learned afterwards, that 
serious doubts had been entertained of my recovery. 
Had I doubted before in what respect and gratitude I 
was held, I could do so no longer, when the inqui- 
ries relating to " Aunt Becky's " situation came pour- 
ing in. 

My recovery was rapid, and again I went on duty. 
Our food was substantial, consisting of bread, pota- 
toes, pork, beans, beef, rice, tea, coffee, and sugar, 
while by the kindness of neighbors we were often 
treated to milk, eggs, and chickens. 
1* 



10 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

Often, in the after months of our sojourn, we con- 
trasted our fare at Beltville with the hard tack and 
coffee, and, unseasoned as it was with luxuries, it 
seemed delicious indeed. 

One by one our men died — no friends around them, 
only some so^.dier comrade, so low in fever and delir- 
ium as to be half unconscious also. My work was 
hard ; — many a night I went to bed but not to sleep ; 
— ^my pillow was coarse straw, and every motion 
which I made in my restlessness, rattled its contents, 
and sent up new bristling stems to thrust them into 
my head and face. 

At our next door — my old boarding place, they still 
kept the howling brindle pup, and one day as I dropped 
in for a moment, I chanced upon the final scene of its 
brief career. Our steward had given him a dose of 
something effective, and as his master was playing 
roughly with him, calling him into his lap to show 
his sprightliness, lie leaped into the air — shuddered, 
and fell dead. I shed no tears over his untimely 
demise. 

Our Chaplain made us a visit, bringing a trunk of 
Hospital clothing from the ladies of Binghamton, 
some fruit from Sanitary at Washington, fyid a firkin 
of butter from Owego. The last was a seasonable 
gift, — now we could butter the toast for our conva- 
lescing men, w^hile before we were obliged to use salt 
and water, sometimes seasoned with a spoonful of 
milk. 

The clothing enabled us to change the fever-satu- 
rated garments of our patients, and the fruit cooled 



THE FATAL BOX. 11 

the parched tongues of some who would never taste 
the hke again. 

One of our fever-patients received a box from 
home, sent in the kindly spirit which forwarded so 
many tokens to the boys, but it proved his death. He 
was recovering, and his weakened mind clung to this 
last link from those he loved, and was content only 
with the box beside his bed. I begged to be allowed 
to keep it safely for him, but could not obtain his con- 
sent, and he ate of the cake surreptitiously, rapidly 
grew worse, and died. 

Two deaths from Co. G. occurred about the same 
time. 



CHAPTER III. 

We proposed a Thanksgiving dinner, but Dr. 
Hunt thought we conld not get one up for the whole 
Hospital, but I, being a private myself, was unwilling 
to assist in cooking dainties for the officers alone, and 
the matter was given over to me to manage in my 
own way. 

Four days previous to the day, I gave in my requi- 
sition for the solid things which should flourish at the 
feast. 

My order was for two pigs, seven turke^^s, five 
chickens, beef, rice for puddings, seasoning for pies 
and cake, and with bread and vegetables, I thought 
our table would be well furnished for the occasion. 

We had one hundred and eighteen names on our 
dinner-list, yet some were not able to eat a full supply. 
Matters began to look doubtful to me, as my order 
was not filled at the time I wished to prepare them, 
and the steward, with some of the boys, got permis- 
sion to go out into the country, and see what they 
could obtain. 

They returned with wild and tame turkeys, and 
pigs, and chickens, and we were soon on the liigh 
road to success. 



THANKSGIVING. 13 

Our pies Coleman and I made at niglit, and I cut 
out two hundred biscuit, thinking bread would eke 
out the supply, but we must have some of our home 
fixings, or it would not seem like Thanksgiving. 

Our cooks, Stillman, West, Quick, and Georgie, 
prepared the vegetables, and Thanksgiving came. 

Thanksgiving ! How thought went back to our 
homes in the JSTorth, where the snow lay over the dead 
leaves, on the sear grainfields, and on the orchard 
paths, where the moss clung to the rocks and fences 
along the way. In the dear homes, by the warm fires 
they talked of us, who were so far away, and going 
on, no one knew how soon, into the valley of battle- 
fields, some — ah many, never more to set foot upon 
those homeward paths, never more to cheer the loved 
ones who would wait their coming till the certainty 
of death broke the heart with its convulsive terror. 

In the midst of so much preparation I could not 
indulge much sadness, and a box arriving to me from 
home, running over with just the things which I 
needed to crown the feast — cake and butter, and 
enough to gd around withal, I felt a thankfulness 
which was in strict accordance with the day. 

Our men had an excellent dinner. The table looked 
as homelike as we could make it by spreading sheets 
over it, and the new tin cups and plates, with the 
knives and forks, were laid neatly upon it. 

We set the table for the ofiicers in the steward's 
room, also spreading sheets thereon for a cloth, and 
the little handkerchiefs of cotton which the Bingham- 
ton ladies had sent for the use of our sick men, we 



14 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

used for napkins ;— we were anxious to support some 
style while yet in the regions of civilization. 

Adjutant Hopkins, forgetting that we should need 
them for the destined purpose ultimately, pocketed 
his, and was called back to deliver it up, amidst much 
laughter. They would soon forget the use of napkins 
in the camp, and on the hard marches ; we could 
excuse it if he had passed into partial forgetfulness 
thus early in the day. 

Col. Ireland of the One Hundred and Thirty- 
Seventh K Y. Y. took dinner with us, and seemed 
to enjoy the occasion. 

I put my hands to all the work which lay in my 
way ; — now washing— now mending — now making a 
toast, or cup of tea for a sick man, yet the days were 
long at times, and the nights endless, and sleepless. 
And yet I was not sorry to be where I was, I was not 
homesick — I would not have returned if I could. 

Some jokes were perpetrated, and some patients 
suspected of not helping Nature in rapid recovery, — 
still it was hard to think this of men who had done 
all the duty thus far required of them. * 

We had one man who '' did not complain of feel- 
ing very well, " — his lungs were bad, and I proposed 
blistering. He had few friends, for above all a true 
Soldier despises a sneak, and such we thought him to 
be — whispering and drawing his face into unusual 
length whenever he came near the steward or myself 
— of whom he was a little in fear, having been told 
that we were " cross." 

Some of the boys in the secret said I would not 



THE NEW HOSPITAL. 16 

induce him to submit to a blister, but I thought dif- 
ferently, and proposed mustard at first, which hurt 
some, but did not effect the cure, — he was still " weak 
in the lungs." Next, a blister of Spanish flies, well 
rubbed with vinegar to make it adhere, was applied, 
and he was cured. 

We were very tired of him before he went away, 
but his blister served him one good purpose, when- 
ever after that he was ordered to go on duty, all he 
had to do was to lay his hand on his lungs, and he 
was excused. 

In the month of Jan., 1863, we were ordered to 
move to Laurel, to join those sick at that place — our 
hospital having been divided heretofore. The stew- 
ard's mother was with us at that time, and once again 
I enjoyed the society of a woman, to whom I could 
talk without restraint. So strange it had seemed to 
me — no faces but those of bearded and mustached 
men. 

I was anxious to go, for those whom I had come to 
the seat of war to tend in sickness were there. I took 
the cars, in company with a Mrs. Bennett, on a cold 
windy day, when the sun would peer at us by snatches, 
while white clouds with inky borders, as though they 
had dipped down into the troubled mire of earth in 
tliek flight, went hurriedly over the blue sky above 
us. 

It was a dreary place to which we went, but I was 
welcomed to it so heartily, and found my room so 
cosy, I took it with a sigh of relief 

Our hospital buildings consisted of an old store, and 



16 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

a two-story dwell ino; house. As we had but little to 
move, only the precious sick, it took but a short time 
to settle ourselves, and be at home in Laurel Hospital, 
and our sick-list numbered only twelve men. 

We were in the midst of a rich farming country, 
and as we tired of our bare rations, the boys made 
frequent requisitions on the neighbors, and drew a 
pig, then a turkey, then a goose, using all strategems, 
deeming them always fair in love and war, and the 
people were only loyal as they stood in fear of North- 
ern bayonets. 

Our cellar was open to the light of the sun, our 
door having fallen in, and, like tenants who expect to 
move in a week or so, and having no particular love 
for the landlord, we had delayed repairing it. 

The boys enticed two pigs into it one day, regaling 
themselves in prospect of the delicious roast, which in 
savory sweetness lay palpitating beneath the bristling 
hide of the unthinking porkers. They had them nicely 
captured, and accustomed to the place, when Dr. 
Johnson was prompted by some spirit to go into the 
cellar, and out ran a pig. He asked me how it hap- 
pened — pigs in the cellar — and I, not knowing how to 
account for it, said the boys must have concluded not 
to keep their pigs over, but had driven them in pre- 
paratory to the slaughtering. 

Surgeon Hunt left us at Laurel, and Dr. Churchill, 
from Owego, took his place. We were very sad to 
part with him, for he had proved himself a kind, hu- 
mane man — a friend to us all, and we had trusted in 
him to do so much for the recovery of the sick. 



THE SPEING-TIME. 11 

Dr. Frencli went to Annapolis Junction to take 
charge of some of our regiment stationed there, and 
onr medical corps was sadly broken up. Our sick-list 
swelled to thirty names, mostly down with fever, and 
my brother amongst them, prostrate with typhoid 
fever. 

We had enough to eat, and comforts for the sick 
in a measure, and a box arriving from Sandy Springs, 
a few miles distant, sent by a Mrs. Deborah Lee, con- 
taining wine, jelly, and pickles, furnished cooling 
drinks for the sick, and many a little bit of relish for 
the convalescing. 

Often we had chickens, and a cow would be milk- 
ed by some unknown " fairy," and the contents of 
the pail deposited in our kitchen before the sun was 
up in the morning. 

March, which brought its bitter winds to our 
Northern hills, came to us with now and then a clear 
sunny day — a promise of the coming spring. With 
every streak of golden light came a wild throbbing at 
my heart, for battles would be fought again — the con- 
tending forces only waited for the work of nature's 
hand to begin again the carnival of death. When 
her sweet breath had breathed life into the bud, and 
stem, and tangles of bloom rose in the waste places 
— then the blue sky with its fresh smile would be 
clouded with the thick smoke of battle, and the ten- 
der grass be dyed with the blood of human hearts. 

How could the flowers open in those trampled dells 
again, where under the blooming tangles the root 
was yet wet with the gore of last year's carnage? 



18 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

But nature smiles, let man desolate as he will ; her 
kindlj hand begins with every recurring spring-time 
the work of renovation. The grass grows ranker 
where some heart spilled its life blood, and where 
some soldier's bones lie mouldering beneath, the grain 
grows heavy in its unripened richness, bending its 
tassels to the very ground. O ! doth it not strive to 
hide with its tangled beauty the devastation which 
man's hand hath wrought ? 



CHAPTER IV. 

Death waited often at our door. Some lay very 
low, while every attention wWch it was possible to give 
was rendered unto them. Our faithful nurses wrought 
over the sick-beds with constant fervor. Their 
names — Jacobs, Gager, Robertson, and Stevens — 
will always be remembered by me, when somehow I, 
like the rest of womankind, are apt to forget that 
men may have tender, sympathetic hearts. 

Jacobs' wife came to stay with her husband for a 
time, and I highly appreciated her society, and re- 
alized how much is always lost in the absence of wom- 
en from ally place where human beings congregate. 

One young man named Raymond was very low, 
and in the uncertainty of his recovery we sent for his 
parents, who came on immediately. I had known 
them before coming out to the army, and the familiar 
faces were like a glimpse of home to the heart-sick 
wanderer. 

They remained a week, and left him recovering, 
but how anxiously their thoughts dwelt around the 
boy whom they were leaving in the care of soldier 
nurses — the boy who had never known one hour of 
sickness, — but his mother was beside him, to smooth 



20 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

his pillow, and relieve his pain. How on the home- 
ward journey their hearts came back to him, lying on 
the bare hospital bed, when the little white-curtained 
room at home was empty, and with all its comforts, 
and the plenty around, lone and unused. 

Such visits were very frequent from the North, at 
the beginning of the war, but as the strangeness grew 
into a familiar thing, and it was nothing new to hear 
of " the boys " being ill in hospital, and later of suf- 
fering from wounds received in battle, the difficulty 
of reaching them increased, and many a poor fellow 
died, yearning for his mother, when in her heart 
agony she was denied the comfort of receiving his 
dying words. 

The cruel war of the Rebellion taught many a 
strange, sad lesson to us all, it made tongues familiar 
with tales of starvation, and death in prisons, and 
wrought descriptions of wounds so horrible, that the 
heart and soul grew sick, remembering the comeli- 
ness of the young soldier, who, in his suit of blue, 
marched proudly away to the war, and now — Oh, the 
wreck of beauty and manliness is hard to dwell upon. 
To vary the monotony of our life, sometimes, in 
company with some hospital visitor, we would go in 
an ambulance to Washington, and, of course, inspected 
the public buildings while there, as did every nurse 
and soldier whose time allowed the strolL 

Of course my eyes opened wide as they looked on 
pillar, and dome, and fresco, and gilding, and marble 
whiteness. I am not to attempt any formal descrip- 
tion of what has been ei:iven in detail time and time 



WASHINGTON. 21 

again, so tliat even those whose eyes have never rested 
on the huge white piles, covering acres and acres, have 
something of a correct idea of the glorj of our na- 
tion's capitoL 

In passing through them one sees many rich and 
noble things, so much' dazzling whiteness and glare 
' that the eye wearies with the grandeur, and would 
fain turn away to rest on some little patch of green, 
fresh with showers, stretching out before a tiny 
cot, suggesting quiet home peacefulness, but sees 
it not. 

The great v^dde streets look like dreary commons 
over which the ranging cattle have made beaten 
tracks — there is a dreary monotony about the muddy 
stretch, so unlike our northern streets, that one is glad 
to escape from them anywhere out into the free coun- 
try beyond. 

It was once a great thing to visit the Capitol; 
now, where is the home in the l^orth out of which 
some member, friend or relative has not passed, to 
stand under the shadow of the marble dome, and the 
tasselled curtains of the White House lost many a bit 
of silken fringe which lies to-day, Avith moulder clay 
from Petersburg and Fort Fisher, and shivers of 
granite from Sumter, and battle relics and prison to- 
kens, in treasure-boxes all over the land. 

The war developed one thing at least — a thorough 
knowledge to many, of the extent and grandeur of the 
public buildings at Washington. 

I was glad to remember the Smithsonian Insti- 
tute, as it stood with its noble works of art before the 



22 THE laNTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

flames rioted upon them. I visited it only the day 
before it was burned. 

The Patent Office bewildered and amazed me — so 
much brain had been expended in fashioning those 
implements of useful industry. In their perfect finish, 
they told so many tales of years of privation and toil, 
when the soul, still confident of success, and sure of 
its powers, kept the hand at its cunning, rising above 
the want which perchance looked in at the window, 
and now the object was obtained. "Was it the worker 
who reaped the reward — who saw his name enrolled 
on the list of benefactors to the human kind ? 

Many sad thoughts peopled those buildings for 
me ; yet I am glad to remember that I too have been 
under the shadow of the Republic's glory, as express- 
ed in the Capitol and other public buildings at Wash- 
ington. 

1 wondered if the silken and velvet robes which 
trailed down the white steps covered hearts which 
beat like mine. After all, does the golden glint from 
piles of wealth throw any softer light out unto the 
world around for those who look over it ? does any 
stronger throb of patriotism urge those pulses when 
all the world holds the name on its tongue ? had those 
hands any potent power for healing which was denied 
us, who passed in lowly garb ? 

Who could tell ? But I had no envy for the ease 
which had rusted its lines into those once fair faces, 
shaded now in their wan waxen whiteness by folds of 
soft, costly laces. I felt only a pity that those jewelled 
hands would not find a work as I had, into which 



SUNNY APKIL. DYING DYING. 23 

heart and soul had entered, which brought in its faith- 
ful performance the peace of a life well tilled and 
spent. 

April came to us as sunny as when a child I used 
to wander in the woods by Cayuga's side, searching 
for all the sweet flowers which sj)rung up from the 
dark rich wood mould. I thought to how many this 
was the last Spring which should drop its flowery 
offerings at their feet. 

Dying men looked into my face beseechingly, and 
I could give them no hope. They called for wife, 
and mother, and child in the swift workings of deli- 
rium, but no wife, or mother, or child could stand by 
the death-bed, to hear, as I heard, the dying words. 

One lay even then, while the April sun was shin- 
ing so brightly, asking for her who had promised to 
stand by him in sickness and in health^ — in the rav- 
ings of his sick fancy calling me by the dear name of 
her he loved, so happy for the moment to believe she 
had come to tend him, and nurse him back to life ; 
and while he talked of what they would do when he 
was at home once more, how my heart ached for the 
woman who knew not that a few hours would leave 
her widowed. 

]^ot till the soal had left the precious dust would 
she know how she was bereft, and the only comfort, 
if comfort it could be called, would be to gaze upon 
those mute lips which her own had pressed but a little 
while before in parting, and know that never a throb 
of life would pulsate through that still heart again, 
and the green grass would grow in long summer 



24 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

days over the silent dust of lier soldier liiisband, star- 
red with the daisies, and wet with God's showers and 
diamond dew, under the shadow of his native hills. 

I experienced naught but kindness, where I had 
been warned of a soldier's roughness, and I was very 
content with my work, so long as the eyes of sick men 
followed me about and grew brighter at my approach. 
So still it made my life to feel that some little good 
was growing out of it, when so much was wasted. 

Colonel Tracy and Lieut.-Col. Catlin visited us, 
and both were interested in everything pertaining to 
our boys, providing for them as fathers would provide 
for children. How the nobleness of such souls shone 
out in the fiery struggle through which they passed. 
Men were tried as by a fire at red heat, and if dross 
made up the measure of humanity, there it lay an 
ashen heap. 

These were men who would not ask others to go 
where they could not lead — men who would divide 
rations and money to the last with a private soldier, 
and would not feel their manhood dishonored. Men 
on whom the dignity of ofiice was in no way cast 
down by sympathy with the common soldier — whose 
Democratic spirits recognized the fact, that " All men 
are created free and equal," and a shoulder-strap had 
no signification of higiier material than earthly dust 
having been incorporated in the frame, which a shot 
or shell made as easy prey for worms as though it 
struck through the coarse blue of the private in the 
ranks. 

I occasionally went from the hospital to visit the 



PICKING GEESE. 25 

different companies of the regiment ; goings once in 
April with one of our nurses, Ira Gager, who had 
lost his voice, and, consequently, I had quite a silent 
ride. 

Everywhere the touch of the awakening Spirit ! 
Everywhere the evidence of the beauty which Sum- 
mer's sunlight would ripen into Autumn's golden 
fruitage ! 

Soon the May blossoms nodded by the road side, 
and the orchards stood filled with perfumed globes, 
which flung out rose-tinted streamers when the wind 
passed them by. 

I betliought me of our over-burthened geese, which 
needed stripping of their downy plumage, and with 
help from the boj^s, they were soon secured, and the 
preparations made. 

But I was disturbed in my work by the appearance 
of an old ** Secesh," looking for his stray geese, which, 
strange to say, were two in number, one gray, one 
white. Singular that mine should be of these colors ; 
his with clipped wings, so were mine ; but I was de- 
fiant — I was a woman ; and as he stood eyeing me 
with gaping mouth and staring look, the echo of a 
smothered laugh from manly throats just inside the 
door, warned him to leave the contest, and another 
pillow was added to our store. 

The boys often brought in honey — and how could 
honest throats relish such stolen sweets? but they 
did nevertheless. War makes strange havoc with 
civilized principles. 



CHAPTER V. 

The returning Spring brought anxious thoughts 
to my heart. How long, I asked myself, will our 
regiment be detained on guard-duty, and escape the 
fatigue of marches and the chances of battle. I lis- 
tened eagerly for any flying report ; but May's fairy 
fingers fringed the borders of the dusty road, and 
Hooker's men fought again on the old contested 
ground, to retreat wearily and hurriedly across the 
river, to leave their seventeen thousand comrades 
dead, wounded, or prisoners. 

We followed them in thought to the river's side, 
where they contended for a passage and won it — to 
the heights of Fredericksburg, where victory crown- 
ed their charging columns ; then through reverse and 
retreat, and the final recrossing of the river to en- 
camp on the old ground ; to miss so many faces, to 
hearken vainly for voices which had strengthened the 
courage of man}^ a one whose heart recoiled at the 
prospect of bloody battle. 

Spring rapidly glided into the early Summer, and 
rumors of Lee's approach suggested descents upon the 
railroad, and our regiment now on strict duty, almost 
envying the soldiers of the Army of the Potomac, 



NOETHERN INVASION. 27 

wliose tivouac for the night had lengthened into an 
encampment for days. 

Silence at last fell over the movements of the 
army. Rumors were flying thick and fast. ISTow 
General Lee was within eight miles of Sandy Springs, 
and our boys caught the scent of the battle afar off. 
It was the first glow of the fire for them, and pro- 
duced quite a sensation in camp ; and in the hospital 
the sick lay, uncertain whether they were to fall into 
the hands of an enemy, or listen to the victorious 
shouts of their comrades as they drove the rebels back. 

The troops at Annapolis Junction came on the 
double quick to Laurel to join the regiment, and the 
excitement ran high. Many were elated with the 
prospect of a sight at the foe — some who faced him 
months after, and were stricken down by the fatal shot 
which souo-ht and reached the heart. 

CD 

The citizens were panic-stricken. Women and 
children with white faces waiting for the beat of the 
rebel drums, and men standing in mute terror, gazing 
upon their homes which a few hours hence might be 
smouldering in ashes, nothing left to remind the 
stranger of what now stood, in sightly peace, a human 
habitation. 

One man, who had since our forces were stationed 
there, floated the stars and stripes from his dwelling, 
pulled them down. If the " Johneys" came they 
wouldn't disturb him — you know. His loyalty was 
of the safe kind ; he had no idea of sacrificing to 
either friend or foe. 

The women connected with our hospital were in 



28 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

a great state of trepidation — some even packing np 
their clothing, in case they were taken prisoners. 

I was excited, as was natural, but had no notion 
of being carried off by Gen. Lee's posts. But the 
days passed, and quiet settled upon us again, as w^e 
learned that the alarm had been occasioned by the 
presence of raiders, foraging on the farms near Sandy 
Springs. 

It was too bad to disappoint so many who made 
loud protestations of bravery, but there was many a 
sigh of relief heard that no sound of rebel drums 
echoed along the valley, and no rattle of musketry 
proclaimed the meeting of hostile forces. 

'Now the grand army had broken camp, and were 
again on the move, no one could tell where, while 
Lee's men swept like a whirlwind through Maryland, 
and up into Pennsylvania, and men rallied to the 
defence of their homes ; with hands unused to labor, 
they took spade, and shovel, and pick, and went into 
the work. 

It must be a good thing to stir up the patriotisms 
of stagnant blood in the human heart. Those who 
had listened to prudential reasoning of business cares, 
now trusted the intricate work to other hands, and 
proved themselves capable of brave things — when the 
war was to be waged over their own heartlis. 

The latent soul fired up, and the coward who took 
his life, and left home and friends, beareth forever i 
after the mark upon his forehead. Better to die one 
brave death fighting over the bodies of the slain, than 
to die the thousand deaths of fear which convulse the 



GETTTSBUEG. 29 

heart of the coward. 'No Paradise waits for his 
successive ghosts, — the hell of despair yawns at his 
feet, and blindly he stumbles into its depths, while 
the land of Beulah awaits the soul of the dying 
brave. 

We heard the boom of the far-away cannons, 
when the feet of hostile forces paused on the sacred 
hill at Gettysburg. The vibrations were plainly felt 
like the tremblings of an earthquake, and we knew 
that men were being cut down like ripened grain. 
The silence of days was broken, and men talked of 
the dreadful heat on the dusty highway, where soldiers 
fell prostrate by hundreds, stricken down by sun- 
stroke. 

Eager eyes sought every scrap of information from 
the daily journals, — and waited, hoping for the best. 

Lee's army, laden with spoils, went back into 
Yirginia, uncaptured, and no one knew why, — so 
sure they were if a conflict was risked every rebel 
gray-back would be taken prisoner of war. 

Hundreds came from the l^orth to visit the field 
for relics — dead bodies were stripped, and the harness 
taken from bloated horses lying rotting where they 
were, killed, — it was safe to indulge curiosity and 
acquisitiveness then, with Gen. Lee miles and miles 
away, and only the boys in blue with their loyal 
guns to guard the field. 

Two visitors came to our hospital thence. It was 
whispered about that their eagerness for relics had 
caused them to indulge in undue freedom with pro- 
scribed things, and in consequence they were obliged 



30 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

to dig the grave for a horse's festering carcass, and 
bnrj it within. 

Such was the tale, however true it might be, and 
those hands unused to labor, in that hot July sun, 
must have blistered with the heavy work. The relics, 
if they were retained, have a weightier meaning for 
them, no doubt, than the bare fact of being gathered 
from the battle-field of Gettysburg. 

I went to Annapolis Junction to see the wounded, 
who, five hundred in number, were lying in the hospi- 
tals at that place. 

It was the first sweep of battle-harvest which I 
had seen — ^yet, there was nothing at that late day to 
ofiend the senses, all was clean and neatly kept, — the 
wounds carefully hid. I heard but few groans telling 
of anguished suffering from those white lips. 

Dr. Wheeler, afterwards in charge of the Di\dsion 
hospital, was in charge here. 

I returned almost surprised and disappointed 
that my feelings had received no shock. Conjuring 
up in fancy the scenes which attended each removal 
from the bloody ground on which they fell, — the 
dusty uniform dyed with patches of gore — the faces 
blackened with powder smoke, and the life stream 
slowly ebbing away on to the trampled grass — but 
nothing of this appeared. So little one can tell who 
visits a hospital after the wounded are cared for, as I 
found months after, when I stood watching the gory 
procession brought into the tents, for our hands to 
minister unto. 

Ferhajjs it was better for me that none of these 



NO SUDDEN SHOCK. 31 

terrible signs met my eyes till in tlie first searcli after 
my regiment, the anxiety wliicli hastened my steps 
on and on was a kind of armor-plate to my tender- 
er sympathies. 



CHAPTER VL 

Summer's lieat burned into the heart of the grasses, 
and they withered to spring up again under the cool 
dew of Autumn nights. The foe made no more 
northern demonstrations, and we slipped back into 
the old routine again. 

Our convalescents sometimes made raids into the 
woods, and captured the pigs which fattened them. 
"We had one on an eventful day roasted to delicious 
perfection, and waited for the meal, when one of the 
boys came hurrying in, while visions of the guard- 
house disturbed his agitated digestion, saying, as he 
went, close to my ear, 

" O ! Aunt Becky, hide the pig — Col. Tracy is 
coming." 

Aunt Becky said, "No, Col. Tracy will stay to 
dinner, and shall eat of it— it is so nicely done— you 
know." 

And he did remain, and as he sat at the table 
eyed me sharply for a moment, then smiled, and ate 
the roasted pig as any honest soldier would when he 
knew it was fattened on rebel stores. 

Nothing ever came to the boys of the lost pigs, 
although a sharp search was made for them soon 
after. Sick men of course could not know, and we 



LONGING FOR HOME. 33 

women were not adepts at capturing the lank speci- 
mens of porkology wliich only needed kinks tied in 
their tails to keep them within the bounds of a rail- 
fenced wood-lot. 

One of our men — Private A. M. West, died in 
August, and his father and wife came on in time to 
catch the last fleeting breath, although he was too far 
gone to recognize them. Still it was a comfort to be 
with him in the death hour — perhaps his spirit was 
conscious, if the body made no sign — and in after 
years they will remember when the grass is thick 
with many summers' growth, that hands which he 
had clasped in love, closed his dead eyes, and bore his 
pale clay back to the quiet churchyard, to sleep far 
from the shock of coming battles. 

September returned, and I had been gone from 
home one rolling year. The golden haze hung over 
hill and wood top, and a homesickness came over me, 
which 1 could neither reason away nor subdue. I 
longed for the dear old spot again v/ith childish furor ; 
— I could not be witheld longer, except I saw for a 
while the faces of friends and children, and felt once 
more the surging waves of civilization sweeping 
around me again, far from camp, and hospital, and 
battle array. 

I took the cars, having obtained leave of absence 
for a few days, and hurried home. Still my heart 
was with its work, and the visit which I thought would 
be so pleasant, was crowded with anxious thoughts of 
the boys, who might any day be ordered to the front, 
or might sicken and die, and 1 away. 
2* 



34 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

I received intelligence of the proposed moving of 
the hospital to Falls Church, Yirginia, and that I was 
needed to help make the change. 

I returned to Lanrel, having been absent thirteen 
days. It was the only break in my hospital life for 
nearly three years, for while so much was to be done, 
and so few hands for tlie work, I could never bring 
my homesick heart to desert its post, although alone 
of my sex in the hospital at City Point — weary and 
dejected at times, and sick of man's heartlessness and 
cruelty. 

Soul and body, both were in the work, and strange 
as it may seem a fascination pervaded it which amidst 
all its trials and privations still kept the tired hands 
at the task, and they would not accept release. 

The autumn waned, still the armies kept the field, 
doing enough of their bloody work to fill the land 
with mourning, and the hospitals with sick and 
wounded men. 

The raw winds of November still found them on 
the offensive, and wearied but brave, many a soldier 
chose the excitement and din of march and fight, 
rather than the monotonous months of camp life, 
when the mud was knee deep, and cold, drenching 
rains froze on the tent-roof, and raw winds crept like 
thieves through the thin walls of his unsubstantial 
shelter. 

The desolation of winter flaunted its signs in our 
faces, as with wild, gusty breath the departing autumn 
blew down the dead, discolored leaves, and the rain 
penetrated the thick uniform of our guards, suggesting. 



BREAKESTG CAMP. 35 

by contrast, tlie warm fires at home, around which, 
gathered forms which he saw now only in dreams of 
the night. 

How often they talked of their soldier, uncon- 
scious of the storm which beat upon his head. 

The regiment had orders to move in this dreary time 
— a part going to Mason's Island across from George- 
town, and a part to Falls Church, Virginia, to which 
latter place I was assigned, and glad to go. The 
monotony of our long stay at Beltville was becoming 
-wearisome, and we longed for a change. 

It was like breaking camp to the brave soldier, 
whose spirit is fired with the prospect of coming bat- 
tles, and who longs to forget in the excitement of 
marches, hoping to meet the enemy, those dull days 
of life, when the sameness had become almost unbear- 
able. 

So I was eager to go. Dr. French procured trans- 
portation for the sick, cooks, and nurses, but forgot 
me in the hurry of the transaction. I told him to 
make himself easy about it — I thought I could " cheek " 
it through. 

The pass called for the exact number of privates, 
nurses, and so on, and Major Morell, our paymaster, 
thought I could not do it. When the conductor came 
around, asking me for my ticket, I said, " I belong to 
the Hospital of the One Hundred and JS'inth 1^. Y. 
Yolnnteers. " 

He straightened himself up, saying, " This pass 
calls for only so many privates." 

" Nevertheless," I replied, " I am supposed to be a 



36 THE laNTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

private — I don't wear shoulder straps," and he said I 
could go on, and left me, doubtless revolving in his 
mind the wisdom of allowing such a reply to " pass " 
a woman, and being wholly unable to see the point. 

We arrived at Mason's Island a little after noon, 
and having there a brother's wife, who had come out to 
remain with her husband while in camp, I remained 
there over night. It was a liurrying scene in the gray 
November afternoon, when the ferry-boat touched 
the landing, and the sick who were to be left there 
were taken in ambulances to the hospital. 

There was greeting of friends who had been sep- 
arated for months — and a glad, homelike feeling 
throbbed through those sluggish pulses at the sight of 
familar faces. 

The next morning I recrossed the feny, and went 
in an ambulance to Falls Church, eight miles distant. 
The ride was very pleasant in the cool November 
sunshine, where the leaves rustled down, dry and 
dead, with every breath of wind, all colored as I had 
seen them always by my own home which bordered 
on Caynga lake. 

And as I rode I tried to think myself winding 
along the roads which by and by would give me a 
glimpse of the bright waters, with the white breakers 
running in wild play over them. But again I looked 
on my strange carriage ; — we did not ride then from 
neighbor to neighbor in vehicles made to take the 
wounded from the battle-field, and I was myself again 
— the hospital nurse, going to her new field of duties. 

It seemed long — very long since September went, 



THE SKELETON CHURCH. 37 

and I liad taken the hurried peep at home and chil- 
dren, and the nncertamty of the next meeting filled 
me with sadness, which almost ripened into actual 
liomesickness, when I beheld the great barren church, 
which the hand of war had arrested in its comple- 
tion. 

The gaunt skeleton, with its huge ribs uncovered, 
stood grinning, waiting for the sick to enter the door, 
and my work lay before me. Any unfinished build- 
ing appears desolate and gloomy — we shudder as 
though the frame work of some human body stood 
before us, waiting to be clothed in fleshy habiliments. 

I could not remain there until some arrangements 
could be made for comparative comfort, and while 
the boys procured lumber, and finished me off quite a 
comfortable little room, I staid with a Union family 
— a Mrs. Chapel by name ; and as we had only ^ve 
names on our sick-list, and none in nmrnediate dan- 
ger, the work was lighter than with the burthen of 
anxiety weighing down the heart. 



CHAPTER VII. 

OuE regiment was now broken indeed. Co. G was 
left at Bladensbiirg, Co. B and Co. I were about two 
miles from Falls Church, others were at Mason's 
Island, and a part with us. Yet thej were enjoying 
themselves, and had many a privilege which was 
denied the soldier in camp. 

The long roll beat one night, and the order for our 
boys to double quick it a mile, to where the Second 
District lay, for a band of raiders were supposed to be 
there. Excitect, but fearless, they reached the spot in 
time to find that the alarm was only occasioned by 
the pickets firing upon an old white horse which, in 
his ghostly garb, had startled them with visions of» a 
surprise. 

The boys laughed as heartily as any one over the 
joke, some, in their hearts, no doubt, glad that the 
enemy was not a formidable force of desperate men, 
which had roused them from slumber in the Decem- 
ber midnight. 

The weather was quite severe for the climate, but 
we were as comfortable as could be expected. 

While at Falls Church I visited one afternoon 
with Capt. Gordon's wife. They had a room, and 



AFTERNOON OUT. 39 

were keeping house. Her furniture must have been 
quite in contrast to that which was waiting them 
when the war should be over, in the old home — one 
cross-legged table, two chairs, a camp-stool, a trunk, 
and a bed in the corner completed the inventory. 
When we took our tea, the trunk was drawn up to the 
table to make the third seat, soldiers making but lit- 
tle display for company. 

Mrs. Gordon did the cooking over a huge open 
fireplace. I could have imagined myself in some 
pioneer settler's cabin, if the room had been walled 
with unhewn logs, and the ceiling unplastered ; as it 
was, I remembered how many comfortable afternoons 
I had been out to tea with a neighbor, when we had 
no war items to talk over — no hopes and fears for the 
dear ones in peril to express, and I wondered if any 
of them ever proved any pleasanter or more profitable 
than this. 

I had but little acquaintance with Mrs. Gordon 
previous to this visit, but knew she was thoroughly 
good, and eminently womanlike. 

A " molasses lick " was a moral feature in our 
winter entertainments, and Dr. French and I were 
invited to attend one at the boarding-place, by Lieut. 
Waterford's wife. We went, of course, and waited 
patiently until eleven o'clock, and finding out that the 
molasses was not likely to come to the " licking " 
point till past midnight, we returned home without 
it. 

At Christmas Mrs. Major Morell sent us a turkey 
for our dinner, and we had a feast. Private Close 



40 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

helped me cook, and do the work of the hospital, 
and I learned to rely greatly on his thoroughness and 
ahility, and will always remember his kindness of 
heart to all who needed his assistance. 

We were at Falls Chnrch three months, when the 
Second District Volunteers were ordered into our 
places, and we were again to move. 

My youngest brother was brought in on the eve of 
our departure, prostrate with lung disease, and as I 
could not leave him to the care of strangers, Dr. 
French left me a man. Private Haywood, to help me 
take care of him. Procuring rooms at Mrs. Chapel's I 
had him moved there, and staid to my lonely task. 

The Dr. had little hope of his recovery, but I 
could not give him up without a desperate struggle. 
I saw the ambulances move away with our patients, 
and felt how desolate it was to be alone with stran-' 
gers, fearing the approach of death to one who was 
as dear as my own child to my heart, for I had tended 
him in infancy as a mother tends her babe. 

Five days of unremitting watchfulness over him, 
and Dr. Woodbury gave him up to die before the 
morning dawned again. 

Haywood was stricken with the same disease, and 
with delirium and the prospect of speedy death I 
grew almost wild in my exertions to save him. I had 
slept none for three weeks only by snatches, while 
my brother slept, and but for the kindness of the 
women of the house my heart would have sunk 
entirely. 

But the disease was arrested in its progress, and 



LOATHSOME PEST. 41 

he became better, and once more I felt as tbougli I 
had breathed the air of freedom. 

Haywood was also recovering, and I felt that I could 
leave them in safety, and go to Mason's Island. One 
branch of our hospital had been moved to Alexan- 
dria, and the steward, after a visit there, brought back 
the sad intelligence of the death of one of our best 
nurses, Squire Gager, who died of small-pox in the 
pest-house. 

We shuddered to think of the death by that loath- 
some disease, from which it is no wonder that every 
civilized being shrinks in trembling horror, and 
mourned him as one of our noblest men — so patient 
with the irritable sick soldiers' fancies — so kind to all. 

We could ill spare such men when the work 
which we came out do was only begun. But who 
shall tell when the harvest is ripe, and the reaper 
gathers in his own, grown golden and heavy for the 
fall? 

I went by way of Alexandria, looking in upon 
those whose constant attendant I had been for months, 
tlien crossed to Mason's Island, and took up my quar- 
ters in the camp. 

My tent was made very cosy and comfortable ; the 
boys ceiled it up, and laid a floor, and the Adjutant 
gave me his stove, which, insensate thing, black and 
bare as it was, seemed the dearest relic from the land 
of civilization — I could cook many a little delicacy 
over it for the sick. ' I had an iron bedstead, a chair, 
a stand made by the boys, and with my trunk I never 
felt richer in worldly possessions. 



42 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

We had some men very low now. One a mere 
boy — dying so far away from his home. His brother, 
also a youth, had been one of our attendants in the 
hospital for many months, and I had become quite 
attached to him for his goodness of heart. 

How I pitied the boy when they told him his brother 
must die — so young — only sixteen, yet old enough to 
breathe out his life to swell the list of sacrifices on 
the altar of his country. We had small-pox in our 
hospital at Mason's Island, and the pest-house to 
which they were taken proved in almost every instance 
the dead-house also. It was said that the men in 
charge would tie the patients to their iron bedsteads, 
while they went to Washington, visiting the theatres 
and concert rooms, leaving the sick in the delirium 
of suiFering to fight the battle of death all alone, 
in the dreadful place. Could any punishment be 
fit for such wretches ? Could any hell yawn deep 
enough to receive their shrivelled spirits ? Rather I 
would have seen our men, one by one, laid under the 
sod, than see them taken to that place to sufier and 
die thus. 

We had one man, private John Yail, who was 
down with the varioloid, but I was determined he 
should not be sent there,^that I would take the care 
myself, and with help from the boys bring him up out 
of the danger. He was quite ill, but I told him when 
the Doctor came along to whistle, and make it seem 
that his illness was of little account ; and he did so, 
being passed in the hurry without any critical examina- 
tion, and as good luck would have it the Doctor v/ent to 



TO THE FEONT. 43 

Baltimore for two days, and when lie returned Yail 
was on the fair road to recovery. 

The first of April we moved into our new bar- 
racks, which the boys had built ; I had a snug little 
room just out of the kitchen, with my tent furniture 
within, and a cupboard in addition, in which were 
ranged to make as wide a display as possible our 
white dishes. 

The building was long, low, and unpainted, but it 
was an improvement on the tents, and we could care 
for the sick in greater comfort. 

Miss Dix visited us here, and seemed quite well 
suited with our arrangements. 

With the forward motion of the Army of the Po- 
tomac, when sunny skies bent over the devoted troops, 
came the rumor that our regiment was going to the 
front. At last the boys were to meet other foes than 
citizen rebels and the lurking diseases of a new climate. 

My heart grew sick when I thought of the deter- 
mined man who stood at the head of the grand army, 
and I knew that Richmond must fall, — that Lee's 
army must surrender ; and then came in long array 
the thought of dismal marches through swamp, and 
morass, the hurried bivouac, the bugle-call in the 
morning, when some who saw the rosy dawn flushing 
up the fleecy clouds lie ghastly corpses before the 
setting sun. 

I thought of the weary soldier as his tired feet 
could hardly support him while he made his cup of 
coifee over the fire of light wood — some rebel planter's 
fence rails — and shot, and shell, and sun, and storm 



44 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

would work out wounds, and sickness, and death for 
many a one now flushed with ambitious hopes, and 
eager for the fray. 

But the order came, and soldiers must obey. I 
went down to see them for the last time before they 
joined Burnside's Ninth Corps, but I felt that the 
shadow of death was over them, as I looked upon 
them, clad in new bright uniforms, so many, alas ! 
which would prove their shrouds. 

As one by one said, " Good bye, Aunt Becky," I 
knew there were those amidst them whom 1 should 
never see again, or seeing them, it might be, in the 
crowded hospital, with wounds, and dying sighs to 
make the place a house of horror. 

My brothers seemed going from me forever, and I 
tried to reason with the uprising in my heart that this 
was why they had taken their lives in their hands, 
leaving peaceful pursuits behind them to fight the 
battles of their country. They had been spared very 
long the attendant hardships of active warfare — they 
did not shrink — why should I ? 

Perhaps it was because a woman's heart beat in 
my bosom, and woman, you know, cannot brave the 
battle shock only as she goes in to minister to those 
who fall, — she could not give those dreadful wounds. 

Lieut. Barton said as he shook my liand, " Good 
bye. Aunt Becky, good bye forever." And he fell 
the first in the fight at Spotsylvania Court House. 

Ilow many such a foreboding hung round those 
men — ^liow many saw the close black shadow which 
even then flung its blackness across their way from 



HEROES ALL. 45 

tlie coming death, and how true thousands of pre- 
monitions proved to be. 

Manj a one at home waited with high hope the 
sure return of the soldier from the wars, knowing that 
somehow — God only knew how — the dear one should 
escape the bullet and bayonet, while to others the 
farewell was, the last on earth. 

A noble band of men had gone — they were all 
noble, as regiment after regiment joined the veteran 
corps; heroic blood fired the hearts in every rank, 
while coward fear drove some wild with its despera- 
tion. It is folly for men to stand now, afar from the 
scenes enacted on those Southern battle-fields, and tell 
of regiment or corps the " Grandest that ever faced 
a foe." 

All were grand ; all were heroic ; the blood of 
mortal men beat in their hearts ; situations, and op- 
portunities may have given some the precedence over 
others, but the same enthusiasm fired all the ranks, 
given the same time, and place, with a master spirit 
to lead, and no one corps or regiment went beyond 
what it what it was possible for all to do. 

Many a one rose to be a hero, who, if the war of 
the rebellion had never cursed us, would have re- 
mained as common place at home as the humblest 
day laborer who eats his bread by the sweat of his 
brow ; the heroism was in the occasion, and the man's 
heart met it without quailing, and forthwith became 
a hero. 

When I went to camp to see the regiment before 
starting, we had twxnty-six sick men in the- wards of 



46 . THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

the hospital ; when I returned one of the nurses came 
to nie, saying I was wanted in a particular ward ; I 
went, and found only one patient left — private Tal- 
man, who was too ill to go to the general hospital. 

I felt that everybody was dead or dying, and 
went to my room, and indulged, woman-like, in a 
long rain -of tears. My occupation seemed gone for 
the time, it was terrible to think when and how my 
next work might come to rae. 

In the morning the cooks were going, and only 
myself and Dr. French would be left. Yery silent 
was our first breakfast alone. "We had coffee, bread, 
and an egg each, and sat facing one another thinking 
of beefsteaks cooked rare, and seasoned with fine salt 
and pepper, and spread with generous slices of yellow 
butter — of mashed potatoes, and steaming rolls, and 
the frothy cream lying flaky on the rich brown coffee, 
but we made no outward demonstration of rebelling 
against soldier's fare ; we saw a time not long hence 
when this breakfast even would have seemed lux- 
urious. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

I HAD promised never to leave the boys, whether 
in camp or at the front, and that day I went to Miss 
Dix to see about being sent up. She gave me her 
word that I should go as soon as any woman was al- 
lowed there, and I rested for the time, with the wild 
beating at my heart which told of death and wounds 
to those who were dear as brothers and children 
to me. 

I took the cars for Hyattsville, Md., where I found 
my friend, Mrs. A. E. Youngs, and was welcomed to 
her house. I enjoyed the rest in body, although, with 
the floating rumors of extensive movements, my mind 
was constantly on the march with our brave troops, 
dreaming of them nightly ; the morning's first awak- 
ening filled with thoughts of them, perliaps preparing 
their coffee by the hasty fire, perhaps called by the 
long roll from the drowsy arms of sleep, to rush into 
the foray with breakfast untasted as yet. 

I received while at Hyattsville the first letter from 
our regiment, from Sergeant Kresgee of the Pioneer 
Corps, giving me in detail the incidents of their march, 
the first night with Burnside, of the halt at Fairfax 
Station, and thence, as all the world knows, the move- 



48 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

•ment on tlie Wilderness ; the bloody ground on wliicli 
the May blossoms were springing np, telling no tale 
in tbeir sweet freshness of the gory stains which only 
the spring before wet their tangled roots. 

Again, over that dreadful spot, the tragedy of death 
was enacted. Again, through the tangles of under- 
brush almost impenetrable, where years of undisturb- 
ed growth had woven the mass into one intricate 
thicket, taking no heed how men should die there by 
thousands, there our gallant men fought their way, 
contending for mastery over the dead bodies of the 
fallen. 

In the lull of the crash of battle, when a hundred 
giants seemed to be falling in the forest, men listened 
in horror to the groans of comrades suffocating, bura- 
ing alive in the woods which had been fired by hot 
shot and shell, and they were powerless to aid them. 

Rumors of these terrors came flying thick and fast. 
Faces grew white with apprehension, when the heart 
remembered that in the ranks of that fighting host 
were some whom they loved as life itself. So to me 
came the tidings of the dreadful May battles, and re- 
ceiving my orders, I prepared to go to do the work 
which the carnage had rendered a necessity. 

I was to go to Fredericksburg ; and on the 12th 
of May I went on board the " Lizzie Baker," bound 
to Belle Plain, on my way there. 

A number of officers were on board, going to join 
their commands, and several women, amongst which 
was one who was " going on her own hook " to nurse 
our poor fellows. The bloom of youth had long since 



THE HILL-SIDE TENT. 49 

departed from her features, and her love of dress, if 
she had ever^possessed any, had gone the way of the 
world's vanities. She v/ore a " horrible " bonnet, and 
a pair of scissors hanging from her left side conspic- 
uously. She persisted in heaping opprobrious epi- 
thets on Miss Dix and " old Abe Lincoln," till we 
wearied of her tongue. Yet, in the kindness of her 
heart, she was going into the hospital city to do a 
woman's work amidst suffering men. 

We arrived at Belle Plain on the afternoon af the 
13th, and there the horror of battle burst upon us in 
sad, sad sights. Hundreds of wounded lay around in 
every stage of exhaustion, waiting for transportation 
to Washington. 

' I shall never forget the pale faces grimmed even 
then with the powder-smoke ; eyes hollow, telling of 
long and intense agony, and patches of gore staining 
the uniform which bore the marks of swamp and 
thicket. 

I remained all night with Mrs. Spencer, of the 
'New York Relief, my companion a Miss Eobertson, 
of the Cavalry Corps, who was going to Fredericks- 
burg also. Our tent was pitched on the hill-side, and 
the rain began to fall in drenching showers, com- 
pletely saturating everything about us — driving away 
sleep, even in our tired condition. I was glad when 
the gray morning dawned, and I could go out and 
help make the coffee for breakfast for the wounded 
boys. 

I had assisted about an hour when the doctor 
on board of the transport sent for me to come and 
3 



50 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

dress wounds. It was a hard morning's work, and at 
eleven o'clock I was relieved, having an opportunity 
to go on to Fredericksburg. There I knew were men 
over whose wounds not even a cleansing sponge had 
been passed — men whose limbs were literally alive 
with a crawling mass of maggots. 

It was a tedious journey ; the roads were broken 
and rutted by the heavy trains which passed over them, 
and we were till four o'clock reaching our destination. 
My boat companion and Miss Robertson were both 
with me in the ambulance, and even in the midst of 
my anxiety, I could not suppress a laugh, as the hid- 
eous groans escaped from under the horrible bonnet, 
each time when the shaky vehicle seemed to lose its 
balance. 

All day, the wounded wlio were able to crawl, 
were passing ns on their way to Belle Plaine, eager 
to get to some shelter, where food and attention were 
possible. My brother was in the throng, but fortu- 
nately I did not know it then. 

At about three o'clock it set in to rain, and we 
went in our drenched clothing through the muddy 
streets to report to Surgeon Dalton for duty. He 
assigned me to the Fifth Corps. I protested against 
it ; said that my regiment was in the Ninth Corps, 
and I could not be put permanently in any other. 
He assured me that I could get relieved when my 
Corps came in, which they had not then done, and I 
went out through the rain and mud to find something 
to do. 

The house to which I went and reported to the 



Washington's home. 61 

surgeon in charge, was once the home of Washington. 
It had been an elegant mansion ; the rich carving, 
broken and cut away for relics, showed the perfection 
of its finish. The yard was full of trees, but no fence 
enclosed it. It was told to me by the colored family 
with whom at the next door I obtained a place to 
sleep, that the cherry-tree cut by Washington's little 
hatchet grew near the house walls, and its roots yet 
remained in the ground. 

I fully made up my mind to remain on duty where 
I was assigned no longer than till I found some of 
our own men, and Avent out to find something to eat, 
having fasted since morning. 

At the JS'ew York Belief, I found some hard tack 
and cofiee, which I relished exceedingly well in my 
half-famished condition. I found my bed at my 
lodging-place a mere bundle of straw shook into a 
dark place which had once been a dish-closet, but 
the dishes were not in the house now. I lay down 
with my cloak for sheet and covering, and no fastidi- 
ous horror of bugs or mice drove sleep from my eye- 
lids. The next morning I awoke quite refreshed, but 
with an empty stomach began dressing the wounds 
of the poor sufferers. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Such sights never before liaunted my waking 
vision. You, afar off from the scenes amidst which 
we worked through those May days, can have but lit- 
tle conception of the horrors wdiich filled the hospitals 
of Fredericksburg. 

You shudder when a child mutilates its tender 
fiugers, and the wound is carefully cleansed and 
dressed; then what emotions would have thrilled 
through every nerve of your body could you have 
seen those shattered frames, wdth limbs wrenched from 
the trunk by exploding shells, with gaping fissures, 
through which the soul had nearly escaped. Oh ! it 
was horrible, and still the long trains poured in their 
hundreds a day. 

They bore their sufferings with heroic fortitude, 
closing their white lips to repress the groans which 
every breath brought up, and clenching their strong 
hands in the intensity of mortal pain. 

At nine o'clock 1 was called to hard tack and 
coffee, feeling the need of it to strengthen me for the . 
work in hand. 

We had a patient wdio occupied a small bed-room 
alone, whose wound was through the lungs, and 



SEAECHING FOR OUE BOYS. 63 

mortal. He was joiing — too young to die away from 
the kind attentions of mother, and sisters, of whom 
he talked to me in the lull of his pain. He told me 
also of one other who was waiting for her soldier to 
return', that life might be crowned by the joys of his 
constant presence. 

We knew he could not live, but he was full of 
hope, and when the numbness of death crept over him, 
soothing his anguished senses, he said, " E'ow I can 
go to sleep, and shall waken much better." 

He dropped into an easy slumber, and did v^Siken 
better — he wakened in a land where there is no more 
pain or sighing — no battle-grounds strewed with shat- 
tered wrecks of mortality, and we closed his eyes, 
thinking how dreadful the tidings would come to that 
peaceful village in the I^orth — to mother, sister, and 
beloved, when they knew he for whom they prayed 
" died of his wounds after the battle was over." 

In my nervous anxiety to find my own regiment, 
I could not rest after the death-scene was over, and 
went out in search of something to lead me to them, 
if they were yet reported as being in. 

I had walked only a short distance, when a famil- 
iar voice called '' Aunt Becky," and I turned to greet 
Col. Tracy, who was ill and suffering extremely. To 
my trembling inquiry after the One Hundred and 
Ninth, he said, "They are badly cut up," and with 
the dread of meeting those brave men, mutilated and 
nigh to death, I proceeded on my search. 

Going in the open door of a church, I found one 
of our boys, Fred Bills, with a mortal wound, and 



64 THE ninth' corps hospital matron. 

his suffering agonizing. He said, ^' O stay with me, 
Aunt Becky," and I promised to do so, reporting and 
being assigned to the Second Division of tlie Ninth 
Corps, Dr. Snow in charge. 

The hospital was located in the Presbyterian 
Church, and my bed-room the high narrow pulpit, 
in which I was so cramped and confined I could not 
lie at ease, even if my nightly vigils were undis- 
turbed by groans and sighs of the wretched men below 
me. 

Poor Fred Bills followed me vfith his anxious eyes 
as I went amongst the patients, and I held him upright 
in my arms many an hour, for in that position only 
cculd he obtain repose. He lived eight days, and a 
dreadful horror seemed to fill his mind at the thou2:ht 
of being buried in an uncoffined grave. He dwelt on 
the terror of falling an easy prey to the worms, before 
decay had fastened on his body — he seemed to feel 
the weight of the stiff clods over his bosom, and 
exacted from a me promise to see him " buried in a 
box." 

Fortunately I had a dollar in my pocket, and with 
that bought some boards, out of which one of the 
boys promised to make a rude coffin, and I saw him 
laid on the stretcher, with closed eyes, and limbs 
decently composed, and went back to my work, wait- 
ing for the arrival of the rude six feet by two in which 
we would lay poor Fred Bills in his narrow resting- 
place. 

Looking out at the window a little later, I saw 
him lying in the wagon to be conveyed to the grave- 



OUTRAGE ON THE DEAD. 55 

yard — ^lying with upturned face, and un coffined body. 
I was indignant at the outrage, for it v^as known that 
he was to be buried in a box, and my blood boiled 
because they heeded no more the last strong wishes 
of a life which had been given to save just such cow- 
ards from a like death. 

I ordered him laid again upon the stretcher, and 
after some parleying it was done, and again I went to my 
work, but ill at ease, looking often from the window. 
Again I saw him lying in the dead-wagon : to outwdt 
a woman tliey were outraging the body of the slain, 
and I cannot tell what feelings rushed over me, and 
almost sent me wild. 

They were about to drive off, and I called upon the 
steward in my anger, and orders were given which 
threatened any who should disobey them with the 
guard-house. 

The coffin came, and the soldier's body was 
decently laid within it, wrapped in a clean sheet, and 
carried to his resting-place in the hospital graveyard. 

Days, in lulls of duty, I kept up my search for our 
wounded boys, and going to the door of the Planter's 
Hotel, I learned it was the hospital of the Third 
Division of our Corps, in which was the One Hundred 
and Ninth Regiment. 

I inquired if any of our boys were there, and a 
voice inside said, '' There is Aunt Becky," and going 
in I found twenty from our regiment, some badly 
wounded. A faintness carae over me, which I had 
not before experienced, as I saw them huddled togeth- 
er, such piteous creatures in their helplessness, those 



66 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

whom last I beheld in the lusty pride of life, now 
lying so low, with death near one, at least, of the num- 
ber. 

Shuddering as I heard a few groans escape him 
in his agony, the faintness passed away, and I felt 
equal to almost anything. In the second story I 
found ten more suffering extremely. 

As I looked from the upper window to shut out 
the terrible sight of blood and wounds, my eyes fell 
upon another still as dreadful, and appealing urgently 
to my heart for hel]). A soldier lay on the bare ground 
— ^his head raised upon a pile of stones, the hot sun 
pouring down upon his pallid face, in wliich was no 
sign of life. Some moments passed, and he stirred 
not — then I questioned a nurse who was passing, and 
he replied to my inquiry of "Is that man dead?" 
" jN^o, but about as good as dead — he can't live." 

I never paused till I reached his side, and seeming 
to gather supernatural strength I helped to bring him 
into the house, after feeling his pulse, and ascertain- 
ing that there was life still in the body. 

I gave him brandy, and in an hour he opened his 
eyes, and seemed to be a little conscious of what was 
going on about him. While striving to revive him 
the Doctor passed that way, and paused, asking, 
" What are you doing with that dead man ? " 

" Going to raise him for myself," I replied very 
deferentially, and he went his way, muttering about 
" calico nurses " being such plagues in a hospital, but 
I had come to Fredericksburg to meet just such rude 
sneers from just such men, while I strove to take np 



RAISING THE DEAD. , 57 

the tangled threads of work which they had promised 
to do, and tie them myself, and he was thanking me 
for it. Well, it was one satisfaction that I craved no 
praise from men of his calibre — if I did any good to 
any poor suffering men in the coarse blue of a private 
soldier, I hoped to be remembered in his heart — that 
was all. 

I saw my patient — who had been left to die, and 
would have died soon but for the help he had — made 
comfortable, and tended him daily, till he was sent to 
the General Hospital, and had the satisfaction of know- 
ing that he fully recovered. I saw him afterward 
in Washington. 



CHAPTER X. 

Growing weary of my restless nights, so cramped 
in the high, old-fashioned pulpit, I sought a room 
where I could sleep in comfort, and was fortunate 
enough to find one with my companion of the night, 
and journey to Fredericksburg — Miss Eoberston of 
the Cavalry Corps, — in a dwelling o]3posite the hos- 
pital. 

"We were company for each other in the long 
nights, when groans kept us wakeful, and I learned to 
appreciate the noble-heartedness of the untiring nurse, 
whose duties were for humanity's sake, not surely for 
the twelve dollars a month, and soldier's rations. 

That was but a sorry recompense, so far as a 
return for the days of toil, and the haunted nights, 
and the scanty fare. Still there was no murmur of 
discontent — men needed a woman's hand to minister 
unto them, and in their sore need she withheld not her 
own, so strong with a brave woman's honest purpose. 

Every place was searched by me in vague antici- 
pations of meeting some one — I knew not who — 
whose desperate case wanted my help that moment. 
One day I found Private Yanvaulkenburg, wounded 
in the arm, and I think by the broad smile which 



THE EUDE COFFIN. 59 

fairly lighted up his face, that he was glad to see me, 
although I could do nothing but give him a cheering 
word. 

Farther on I found Private Silas Phezonias, and 
Charles Godley, wounded badly, and I feared mor- 
tally. Phezonias had suffered an amputation, and 
his life was slowly going out. His thoughts also, cen- 
tred on the one idea of his burial. He was conscious 
that only a few more days were left for him, and look- 
ing earnestly into my face, as though my woman's 
will could work miracles in that devoted city, asked 
if I could not get a box also for his poor body. 

How could I withhold a promise asked by those 
dying lips ? God only knew how keen my anguish 
was, when I saw death stealing away the senses of 
those men who were dear to my soul, and I knew I 
could move Heaven and earth to grant the dying 
request of a soldier, and I promised that his body 
should not lie in an uncoffined grave. 

After that he grew content, and one night they 
came to me, saying that he was dying, and wished to 
see me before he went. Hurrying away to the com- 
fortless spot, I found that his spirit had gone, and the 
words he wished to say had perished with his breath. 

I found with infinite search a scrap of lumber, 
and a rude coffin was made for him also. When it 
was finished, and we went to lay the body within it, 
what was my horror to find it gone ! 

I hastened to the graveyard, resolved to have it 
exhumed in case of burial, and found them standing 
beside the remains, about to offer up a prayer for his 



60 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

repose. I said, " What is a prayer to a promise ? " when 
the Chaplain argued that others had no coffins — it 
was nnwise to establish such precedents, and he 
wished to conclude the ceremony as quickly as possi- 
ble. 

I ordered the sexton to take him from the grave, 
and with some demurring he complied, and I left a 
guard over the body, till I could return with the 
coffin. I combed his hair, and washed his face, and 
they laid him into the unstained box, and again he 
was lowered into the shallow grave, this time to rest 
in peace. 

My feelings were bitter toward those unfeeling 
men, who thought of nothing only how best and 
quickest to put the poor clay out of sight, before it 
become an offence to the senses. Such familiarity 
with death may harden some natures — surely there 
was the semblance of utter callousness of heart in 
many such scenes, where dead men were hurried into 
the graves with scarce a foot of earth above the rot- 
ting clay. 

Going out about two miles distant, I found a num- 
ber of our regiment, one from Co. F — Sergeant Star- 
key — wounded badly through the back. lie was 
lying on his face — his dirty, bloody blouse his only 
pillow, and as he grasped my hand, great sobs shook 
his manly frame, and tears even fell on his coarse 
sleeve. 

I was almost unnerved for a moment — had he 
been ray own brother I could hardl}^ have grieved 
more, for they ivere all brothers to me. I had been 



BITTER THOUGHTS. 61 

acknowledged with so mncli respect by them — ^liad 
received so mach kindness at their hands, that my 
own kin were nearer only as blood is thicker than 
water, I suppose. 

I asked what I conld do for him, and he said, 
" Bring some apple-sauce, and lemons, and green 
tea, such as you use to make, Aunt Becky," and dif- 
ficult as it was, I got them. I can't tell what spirit 
animated me at such moments, but I felt a strength 
which would have carried me through fire and water, 
if I could not else have obtained what 1 wished. 

At such times how slow Government seemed in 
furnishing needful comforts for the suffering men — 
they had not been tardy in rushing them into the 
dreadful battles to uphold that Government, and 
when I saw how comfortless was their situation, 
bitter feelings would uprise in my heart, till I 
wished to see the whole body of ofiicials, m w^hose 
hands these things rested, lying helpless as those 
poor men. 

I knew it was a heavy work — I knew also that 
the people were not willing that their own sons, and 
brothers, and husbands should suffer such horrors, 
when it was possible to relieve them, and as I knew 
my own strength to do, so I calculated what those 
high in power should do, when no expense or inge- 
nuity had been spared to bring them thus low. 

Starkey looked his thanks as I returned, bearing 
the desired drink and food, and two blankets also, 
with which he was made much more comfortable than 
before. He was moved to Washington at the gen- 



62 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

eral clearing of the hospitals in Fredericksburg, and 
died soon after of his wounds. 

His name doubtless swells the list of those who 
might have been saved, could it have been possible 
for them to remain quietly while nature asserted her 
healing strength, but the evacuation of Fredericks- 
burg being considered a military necessity, there 
was no room for questioning the wisdom of the jour- 
ney over the rough road leading to Belle Plain, and 
with many a brave man he bore it in silence, although 
death came soon after. 

In coming from Washington I lost my trunk, and 
for twenty-one days had no change of clothing. The 
discomfort was felt exceedingly, although I said to 
myself. So long as I keep well, and these poor sufferers 
have less than I, it is not right for me to make com- 
plaint. 

As one after another of our boys were found in my 
daily walks, I learned of the killed, and over none 
did my heart yearn as a mother over her son, more 
than when I learned that Willie Lewis was killed — 
both legs being shot away, his life went out with the 
deluge of blood. He had been with me for months 
in the hospital, and together we had watched over 
his dying boy brother, and I had taken the home- 
sick child into my affections as a son, and now 
mourned him as such. 

I had thought so often of him, going out alone 
to the hot battle, when he had hoped to have his 
brother beside him, to stand together or fall. He 
lies with the unrecognized dead on that red burial 



FEEDERICKSBUKG. 63 

plain, while they took his brother's remains from the 
graveyard on Mason's Island, and carried them to his 
native town, to rest till the graves give up their dead, 
while the world never knew of the two young lives 
which were given np for th-eir beloved country. 

"Will they some time recognize such humble heroc'S 
— will the great men some time unbend from the dig- 
nity of office and position, and acknowledge, while 
the mouldering bones receive due sepulchre, that to 
thousands and thousands of such unknown soldiers, 
perishing on the battlp-field, in prison pen, or in 
hospital, they owe their proud estate ? 

America of all nations on earth can afford to be 
grateful to the humblest defender of her soil, whose 
spirit went up with the countless host. 

The Sanitary Commission did a work of mercy, 
so far as they could reach our needs — but it was im- 
possible, when Government could do no more for 
them, to do everything. 

E'o tongue can tell the suffering which at this time 
filled Fredericksburg. E'one only those who were in 
the midst of the dreadful scenes, can realize in the 
faintest degree how hunger and death walked there, 
hand in hand. Our rations did not arrive, and for 
days we felt the keen pangs of starvation gnawing at 
our vitals. 

To add to my miser}^, if pains of the body in the 
centre of so much anxious watching could be called 
such, I wore my feet out with constant tread, till the 
blood came through to the soles of my shoes. I 
thought of Yalley Forge, when the intense cold of 



64 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

a IS'ortliern winter stole into the camp of despond- 
ing men, and Washington saw the bloody tracks of 
his soldiers printed in the snow's white purity. They 
suffered for the same country which we loved, and 
bled in the same cause, counting it no loss if only 
the end should be peace. 

My. ward was over the amputation room, and never 
while I live, will I forget the groans which issued from 
that place. Heartrending cries for aid, when the 
surgeons stood with drops of sweat beading their 
brows — agonized over the pains which they could not 
alleviate. Oh it was horrible, and sickening to listen 
to them as we must at times. 

Scarcely a building in Fredericksburg but bore 
the mark of hot shells, for both armies had turned 
their guns upon the doomed city ; still every torn and 
shattered house held its quota of wounded men, and 
through the fissure where some screaming shell had 
penetrated in its fiery flight, the night-wind sighed 
sadly, and flared the dim lights which we carried, 
and the rain and mist beat through in the lonesome 
midnight. 

The sound of the organ in the church which we 
occupied, when played by Miss Gilson, another efii- 
cient nurse, seemed like the spirits of another world 
chanting liymns of consolation to the poor troubled 
souls of this, as they lay, some in the delirium of 
fever, fighting again the hard-contested battle — some 
thinking sadly of homes which should be never more 
blessed by their presence, of wife and children, who 
in after years, when peace was reigning again, should 



MOEE WOUNDED. 65 

speak in subdued tones of the dear soldier who died 
of wounds in the hospital at Fredericksburg. 

Sometimes the wild wailing of the chords seemed 
a dirge, which sad spirits were chanting over the 
souls so soon to pass the dark river with the silent 
boatman, and I grew tearful, and escaped froin my 
thoughts at' once. 

My labors were confined mostly to the hospital of 
the Second Division of the Ninth Corps, although I 
visited my outside patients every day, and they seemed 
to look regularly for my coming. I tried to carry a 
cheerful countenance with my aching heart, for God 
knew that little enough of sunshine went into those 
dreary rooms. I could go out into the free air, when 
the scent of blood and discharges from wounds made 
the closeness unbearable, but they must lie there, and 
on their hard beds bear it all as best they could. 

I found Privates Barber and Loomis in my walk 
one day — Barber wounded in the arm, while Loomis 
had lost a leg. Both seemed as comfortable as they 
could be made without beds, in the crowded rooms ; 
and day after day I went to them, relieving them the 
best I was enabled to do with our stinted means. 

It was dreadful to see the depths into which their 
spirits were plunged at times, when as comrade after 
comrade breathed out the last sigh, the uncertainty of 
their own recovery stole over the enfeebled mind, and 
agonized with thoughts of all that which they were 
leaving behind them, they sunk into the depths of 
despondency. 

We had one youth of about seventeen years, whose 



G6 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

cheerful face was like sunshine in our ward ; we knew 
him as "" Charlie," and he seemed the light of the 
place, never murmuring, although his good right arm 
lay festering somewhere, food for w^orms. 

He would say to me, " Now, I can never write any 
more love letters, Aunt Becky, do yon think she will 
like me as well as ever with only one arm," thus play- 
fully cheering up those whose sufferings were not 
more than his own, but whose spirits were less sun- 
shiny to endure them. 

One day he called me to him in great alarm, and 
said, " I think I am dying, I feel such a strangeness 
there^'^ pointing to his amputated arm. I undid the 
bandage, and there, rioting on the fresh festers of the 
wound, were a score or more of white crawling worms. 
They had produced the uneasy feeling, and as I picked 
them off he grew quiet again. 

We had a call one day from the Provost Marshal, 
who said to me, "Madam, I must compliment your 
hospital on being so clean and well aired, and the 
men looking so comfortably." 

Said I, not knowing who he was, and glad that I 
did not, " We have done the best we could for the 
poor fellows, and if it had not been for the Provost 
Marshal would have had bunks also ; I wish he lay 
in the place of that old soldier, and I had the privi- 
lege of feeding him hard tack, and seeing him try 
the soft floor till I was satisfied," and the gentleman^ 
coloring, and stammering, shortly after left us. 

Dr. Hays came in directly, saying, "So you've 
had a call from the Provost Marshal." 



THE OLD GERMAIN. 67 

I was SO. indignant at liis meanness, tliat I would 
have given him a harder thrust than I did, if_ I had 
known him at the time. Having fallen in love with 
a " secesh girl," who owned a lot of lumber, he had 
taken the men, sent by the surgeon to make it into 
hospital bunks, to the guard-house, and set a strict 
watch over the lot, and our boys lay on the floor to 
satisfy his selfishness. 

The old German soldier to whom I had pointed, 
wishing the Provost Marshal in his place, was an in- 
tense sufferer — ^his wound through his lungs compel- 
ling him to sit upright at all times. He leaned 
against a pillar of the building, his gray, tangled hair 
fluttering in the wind, and I was reminded of saints 
and martyrs hourly, as I looked his way. He talked 
much of those whom he had left, how hard it would 
be for them to think he should never come home, 
when the war was over. All he ate I fed him in 
lemonade, with a teaspoon. 

He died in great agony, after suffering days of 
untold misery, and death seemed a welcome release. 

Oh, if the cruel shots could only kill at once — ^but 
this terrible mutilation, when the soul is almost let 
out of the gaping wounds, and struggles with the 
full strength of manhood, till faint and weary — weak 
with the deluge of blood, which has drained the foun- 
tain, the cold hand of dissolution clutches at the heart, 
and the soul goes forth from the torn body, leaving it 
a poor lump of festering flesb, on which the worms 
may banquet at will ! 



CHAPTER XI. 

The long three weeks ended, and tlie city was to be 
evacuated. Through the lonesome night of storm and 
darkness, we women held the lights for the soldiers 
to lift their comrades on stretchers, and carry them 
down the slippery banks to the transports in waiting 
on the river. ]^o moon or stars shone on that pain- 
ful embarkation ; — thick clouds of storm were drawn 
from horizon to horizon, and the rain drenched- us, 
and the chilly wind swept in long gusts, now and then 
extinguishing the dim lights which we carried. 

Groans from manly lips, which could not be sup- 
pressed, bore evidence of the torture which they 
endured, when bare bone, and nerve, and artery 
freshly bleeding, came in contact with the stretcher. 

There was no help — if they died there was no help, 
and I kept back the tears for those who I knew 
could never endure the transition to another hospital, 
or if reaching it, would die speedily. 

Three hundred of the wounded from the Wilder- 
ness, who fell into the hands of the rebels, and were 
retaken by a cavalry force of their own number, were 
brought in, and with them we left Fredericksburg at 
dark for "Washington. 



MY EEBEL FEIEND. 69 

We lost only two men wliile on the journey — one 
from a Michigan regiment, the other from Massachu- 
setts. 

I dressed wounds, and fed the helpless, while on 
the way, and although there was many a joke perpe- 
trated, and mnch laughter from the unhurt portion oi 
the crew, yet I was too sad, as I looked upon the 
uncomplaining misery of that heroic band of- three 
hundred, to indulge in anything but tears. 

While in Washington I visited the different hos- 
pitals, searching after those to whom I had minis- 
tered in Fredericksburg, under such unfavorable 
circumstances. I found some very low, and two, 
mentioned before, on whom death had already set his 
seal. 

Privates Barber and Loomis, whom I saw with 
severe wounds in Fredericksburg, were both struck 
-with mortal pains. Gangrene had made its insidious 
attacks, and in their exhaustion they could not rally 
against it, and died. 

I promised to be with them as long, and as often as 
I could, and finished my care when both lay in the 
dead house, coffined for burial. I again went to visit 
Mrs. Youngs, and found her the same uncompromi- 
sing rebel sympathizer, yet as ready for humanity's 
sake to do for our suffering heroes, as for those whom 
the fate of war threw wounded and helpless into our 
hands. 

Her education had been half military, in fact, and 
her zeal for the relief of soldiers seemed almost indom- 
itable. She was born and reared in the barracks of 



70 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

the IN^avy-yard at Washington ; her father, brothers, 
husband, and son were connected with that branch 
of the service, and she had scarcely been outside the 
influence of naval manners, till just previous to the 
breaking out of the war, her son had established her 
in a pleasant home in Bladensburg. 

Thoroughly good at heart, her feelings, so long 
allied with the South, could not tear themselves away 
from their first love, and the dead of Southern battle- 
fields were to her the martjo-ed for homes and prin- 
ciples. 

We avoided all these sectional themes, and I loved 
her for what she was, and many a disabled soldier 
remembers the woman who, while she bound up his 
wounds, deemed them the just penalty of invasion. 

I returned to Washington for duty, and was 
ordered to report to White House Landing. In com- 
pany with a Mrs. Strouse, also ordered to tliat place, 
I went to the wharf to take the " Lizzie Baker," bound 
thither. 

When we reached the boat, the Captain ordered her 
well out into the river, determined that no more " cal- 
ico" should desecrate his decks. Knowing that he 
would stop at Geesborough for the mail, I hailed a pro- 
peller which was getting up steam to leave soon for tlie 
same place, asking the Captain if we could have pas- 
sage. He replied " Yes," unhesitatingly, and we went 
on board the little puffer, keeping out of sight till well 
alongside of the " Lizzie," when we hurried upon her 
deck as tliey drew close together to put on the mail. 
We heard the rather profane ejaculation of the Captain, 



A STOEMY SEA. 71 

"Mj God, there they come now ; " yet as he laughed 
and acknowledged himself beaten, I could not hold 
anger against him for wishiug to keep " calico nurses " 
from his decks, his experience as he related it, being 
anything but commendable to the women. 

The Captain was no admirer of them as a kind, 
and his lines having fallen amongst the unloveliest of 
the sex, he anathematized them all. However we 
were cared for very kindly, yet the trip was a terrible 
one for me — the wind blew a terrific gale, and direct- 
ly over our heads the horses pawed and neighed, 
impatient of their restraint. Mrs. Strouse would 
believe they were coming down upon us at times, and 
her nervous manner added greatly to my disquiet. 

I was hungry, for I had given my lunch to some 
boys who were returning to their regiments from 
sick furlough, and had neither money nor rations. 
I thought Providence would put me in the way of 
food — any way I could go hungry as well as they. 
But my trust was not in vain — the cook gave me a 
cup of coffee, and some bread which satisfied Nature's 
need. 

We arrived the next day at White House Landing, 
and I looked in dismay at the dreary place, where 
nothing but blackened chimneys marked it as the 
former abiding place of men. 

White tents flapped their wings over the uneven 
hillocks of a last year's corn-field, and the bristling 
canes, mildewed and rotting, stood under the pelting 
of wind, and rain, and the heat of the hot summer 
sun. 



12 THE NINTH COKPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

Our hospital lay on tlie same uneven ground, and 
many were very sick, and some dying, with no beds 
or hammocks on which to breathe out the last sigh. 
I was so weary I could hardly drag my footsteps 
thither ; but meeting with some of our old hospital . 
cooks, who hailed from the Granite State, they soon 
made me a cup of coffee, and I went to the tent as- 
signed me, and with my head pillowed on a corn-hill, 
and my back curved in the exact hollow of the con- 
tiguous row, I tried to sleep, and forget how weary I 
could become. 

The dews were like a drenching shower — feet and 
clothing were heavy with the moisture, which clung 
to us persistently, waiting for the hot sun to dry it - 
away. It was a great discomfort to us, as we walked 
from tent to tent, our hoopless skirts clinging so 
closely to the figure as to impede our progress. 

The agents of the Sanitary Commission were then 
at work with their usual force and energy, and as the 
wounded were brought in daily, no one can tell the 
amount of suffering which they helped to allay. 

Oh, those little streams rippling down from every 
town and hamlet in the North, sending their precious 
contents into the broad bosom of the Sanitary Com- 
mission, how we contrasted them w^ith the dews of 
heaven, which through the tender grass blades in 
lovely vale and on wooded hill, find the way to the 
lagging brooks, and thence to river and sea. The 
little stores which came from the loneliest farm-house, 
where the old wife knit and dreamed of the soldier 
whose feet should be encased in the socks her fingers 



SANITARY AT WORK. 73 

fashioned, were like tlie crystal drops whicli form the 
sea's great depths, and we meted them out to father, 
brother, son and lover. 

We thought of the maiden who sewed the seams 
of the coarse hospital shirt, dropping a tear perchance 
on the garment, when she thought how wounds might 
pierce one precious body in those stalwart ranks, and 
hoped some one might do for him what she was striv- 
ing to do for some other ones beloved. 

How little the women thought as they made tiny 
pillows, stuffing them with hops and soft moss, to lay 
under wounded arm and limb, of the actual scenes 
which attended their using amongst the ghastly 
wounded. Many a bright eye would have grown dim 
with the tears, could its owner have looked into our 
hospital tents, and seen the wreck of manliness sufifer- 
ing untold agony with mute lips, and clenched fingers, 
bearing it all silently. 

It was well that they could not follow those gifts 
down to the place of distribution, else no smiles 
would have gladdened those faces, and the meetings 
would have been sad as a funeral gathering. 

I met at White House Landing one Christian 
Commissioner, whose kindness made him universally 
beloved — whose salutation was always, " Blessings on 
you," and by that name we knew him in our camp. 
His kindness to me will never be forgotten, nor the 
tender solicitude which he expressed for the poor 
crippled fellows, whose painful torture of body he 
could not mitigate. 

It was ^distressing to see dying men lying on the 
4 



V4 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

hard eartli, notliing but a blanket between ; but we 
did the best we could with the means at hand, and 
although having better rations than at Fredericks- 
burg, they were poor enough. Many a night I went 
to bed to think of the crumbs which fell from over- 
flowing tables in low brown farm-houses, which bor- 
dered on Cayuga's t;de. 

We had six women nurses, and the men kept at 
their work, seemingly untiring, as they ministered to 
those who should need mortal aid only a little while 
longer. 

We did our cooking by a fire made between two 
logs rolled close together, while Sanitary was in pos- 
session of a stove — an article of great worth in our 
eyes, perhaps a little envious at times. Sill we made 
many a dainty bit for the sick men over our rude fire, 
only giving vent to our feelings when the toast was 
burned, or a strong pufi* of wind blew the ashes into 
our smoke-bleared eyes. 

I was sent for one day to attend a doctor who was 
ill, away back in a a tent aside from the hospital, and 
I found him in great need of help, getting but little 
sympathy in his worn and weak condition. It is a 
misfortune if a man grows ill from over- work in a 
hospital, that he is so often charged with a disposi- 
tion to play off, and avoid duty. 

The doctor was ill with a low, nervous fever, and 
I set about trying to relieve him. 

T found a young lieutenant in the same tent 
wounded badly through the thigh, and whose sands 
of life were dropping silently away. Both doctor and 



THE PEACEFUL DEATH, 15 

lieutenant were from Holyoke, Mass. The young 
officer was a nohle looking young man, and his strug- 
gle with death was hard, so much life and hope he 
had. 

He said to me, " Will you look at my feet and 
hands, and tell me why they are so cold and numb ? 
Will I, can I ever get well ? " 

They were purple even then. I said honestly, 
" I think you can live but a short time," and sighing, 
he replied slowly, 

" Well, I am not sorry that I came here, even if 
I have got my death, but it will be very lonely for 

He seemed to dwell upon the thought very calmly, 
and went on saying, " If the country forgets me, she 
always remembers me; there will be a monument 
raised in her heart to my memory, and it will always 
live." 

He died as peacefully as a child goes to its slum- 
bers — dropped away silently without a struggle, and 
as I closed his eyes, and looked upon the great noble 
figure stiffening in death, I thought how her heart 
would ache, when she knew that her head could never 
more be pillowed upon his bosom. 

The doctor recovered slowly, and remained an 
efficient aid in our Medical Corps till the army was 
disbanded, and each soldier was sent to the Hospital 
of Home, to draw upon the sanitary resources of in- 
dividual households. 

Four of us tented together, and slept upon the 
ground till just previous to our breaking camj), when 



V6 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

the boys drove crotcLed sticks into the earth, and 
nailed barrel staves over the cross pieces, and over 
these we spread straw, and slept very comfortably 
indeed. 

Getting desperately hungry one day, two of us 
started ofi* on a foraging expedition ; I in search of 
mush and milk. We reached a hut occupied by a 
colored family, and asking for the desired article of 
food, knowing it to be staple in such places, mine was 
given me in a tin wash-basin, while my companion 
received hers in a great yellow dish of antique mould. 
Nevertheless, we thought it worth a half dollar each, 
and departed with our hunger appeased in a wonder- 
ful degree. 

The tent in which the colored wounded were, 
seemed to fall in my line of duty, and I found within 
it ten ill with fever and wounds. , One little fellow 
only thirteen years of age, who had been waiter for a 
captain, and had lost a foot, bore his sufferings with 
the heroism of a man. 

Not even a groan escaped his lips, and the only 
words which betokened his sorrow were, " What will 
my poor mother do now ? " So young, with the stain 
of Africa upon his cheek and brow, he would have a 
hard world with its mountains of prejudice to sur- 
mount, and crippled in body as he was, I sighed for 
his future fate. 



CHAPTER XII. 

So mucli waited to "be done tliat I sometimes grew 
bewildered, and wished for a hundred pair of hands, 
that I might work out the strength of will which kept 
up soul and body. I was often sent for while in the 
midst of a distressing scene, and I hardly knew where 
to direct my steps. Some were so eager to join their 
commands, that it needed the greatest watchfulness 
to prevent them from going even out of sick-beds. 

We had a Captain Williams sick with a fever, yet 
burning with a desire to join his regiment, which was 
gathering the laurels of battle thickly, in the long list 
of wounded and dead. 'No persuasion could turn 
him from his purpose ; he got up from his straw bed, 
and with feeble steps tottered from the tent, left on 
the transport, and in ten days his body was at City 
Point in the dead-house, waiting embalmment. 

So the Harvester, gathered them in, one after an- 
other ; before disease as well as by the deadly shot 
they fell in their manhood's prime, and many hearts 
ached with the terrible blows which came to them 
over the electric wires, and they never more rebound- 
ed from the fearful shock. 

Lieut. Barton was our first officer killed. He met 



78 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

liis cleatli at Spottsylvania Court House ; and here at 
White House Landing I learned that his fears were 
confirmed, when on taking leave of the regiment at 
Alexandria, he said to me, holding me by the hand, 

" Goodbye, Aunt Becky, I bid you goodbye for- 
ever." 

Do the wingg of death cast their shadows thus over 
the heart, which is so soon to be hushed in its beating 
by the clutch of the cold, bony hand? Does the 
yawning grave open wide its portals to the eye of the 
soul which is so soon to be free from the clay, leaving 
the companion of its earthly joys and sorrows to 
mingle " ashes with ashes, and dust with its original 
dust?" Are there some spirits so ether ealized that 
they can look beyond the veil of flesh, and know that 
it is only a little while, and the company of the blest 
will be their companions forever ? 

Coward fear may sometimes cause the soul to 
shrink back in dread dismay, but this premonition of 
death has a power speaking to the soul, hushing its 
fears, bidding it make its final peace on earth, and 
send its farewells to those whom they shall greet no 
more this side of the eternal river. 

It makes no craven of the soldier who feels the 
full weight of the coming shadow; he meets death 
like a hero, and his spirit, we trust, goes to the bosom 
of its Maker. 

Yery many of our men were taken prisoners, and 
the horrors of Andersonville and Belle Isle were pic- 
tured to us, till they seemed to lie on the borders of 
the Satanic land ; and starvation, and torture by the 



THE BETTEE PART. ' 79 

hot sun, and exposure to storms and disease, were the 
fell agents which laid them in the shallow, un coffined 
graves, over which a nation mourns to-day. 

Their names are inscribed with the band of mar- 
tyred ones ; shall their memory ever fade from the 
long roll of honor ? 

We lost our colors and our color-bearer, Grisel, 
was taken to Andersonville, and in that lonesome pen 
thought of his wife, and children, and home, till the 
soul went out of the starved wreck of mortality. 
They buried him in a grave amongst the murdered 
dead on that awful field, over which no smoke of 
battle rolled to make it seem '^ sweet to die for one's 
country." 

Only one man of all the long list of captured ever 
returned to tell the tale of woe — Private O. P. Car- 
mer, of Co. F., who lay in the pen of Andersonville, 
and whose hopeful spirit kept the soul within his 
emaciated body till the release came ; and he returned 
like one raised from the dead, a wreck of manhood, 
unable to join his regiment, and scarcely able to en- 
dure the journey home. 

I thought in the bitterness of my heart, while lis- 
tening to the horrible details of the treatment of our 
prisoners by the rebels, and when I knew that my 
brothers might any day share the same fate, that I 
could never minister to the wants of their wounded 
again. But when I saw them suffering in the agony 
of fever, thirsting for water, now deliriously raving of 
the fierce charge of battle — then whispering low of 
the peaceful home which the invader had profaned 



80 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

witli unclean feet, better feelings took possession 
of me, and I could be as gentle to them as to my 
brother. 

Some woman's heart cherished them — some bright 
eyes were wet with tears for the missing soldier, and 
as I would that they should do unto those of mine 
who fell into their hands, so I tried to do to them ; 
God forgiving me the bitter thoughts which were of 
my grosser self, and purging my soul of the sin's dark 
stain. 

The tidings reached me here of another brave man 
killed. Captain Gorman of Co. C, shot by a stray 
bullet at North Anna. We had little time to dwell 
on these terrible casualties, for again the order came 
to move, and no one knew whither. 

Our poor men must endure the dreadful journey, 
and we prepared them for the transport, and on the 
tenth day of June left the tented corn Held, which 
was now trampled by many feet to a level plain, and 
I set about looking out for rations for the toilsome 
voyage. 

Our worthy friend, the Christian Commissioner, had 
given me the promise of a boiled ham, and going after 
it, I learned to my dismay that they were all on board 
of the barge. My friend seeing my look of disap- 
pointment, and not liking to break his promise, went 
on board the boat, and soon, but with some trouble, 
returned with one. 

I was looking out for lunch for those who were 
going to join their regiments, and procuring crack- 
ers, I cut the ham into slices, but found it was not 



LOOKING OUT FOR THE BOYS. 81 

enougli for so many moutlis, voracious in their newly 
recovered appetites. I presented the case, and our 
old friend said, " Blessings on you — you shall have 
another ham," and I got it, blessing him in my heart 
as I cut the thick juicy slices, which looked so tempt- 
ing in their boiled perfection. 

On the fourteenth of June we went on board the 
boat — six nurses of us, with five days' rations of bread, 
pork, coffee, and sugar, and learned to our disquiet 
that some one had blundered, and sent some two 
hundred of the sick on board who should have gone 
by another boat to Washington. 

Our doctor had gone wooing, leaving the charge 
of affairs to some under oflicials, and matters were 
wonderfully mixed. In my vexation at the unpar- 
donable extent of the blunder, I could have lectured 
every one roundly, who presumed to listen to the soft 
dalliance of Love, when reeking wounds, and fever- 
thirsting men lay helpless beside them. 

I knew those men could not go without food so 
long as our rations lasted, and I took the supply into 
my own hands, cutting up five loaves of bread, and 
the pork, thinking of the five loaves and the fishes, 
and wishing I had the power of feeding that multi- 
tude with full supply, as did our Saviour in times of old. 

A doctor from the Cavalry Corps Hospital was in 
charge, and to him the women made complaint that 
Aunt Becky had given away their rations. On the 
second day we had nothing to eat — only the ham bone 
remained, and the vengeance of dire hunger was meted 
out to me in strong measure. 
4* 



82 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATKON. 

This day tlie l)arge which bore our surgeons came 
alongside, and when they reached the boat the storm 
of fury broke upon my devoted head. I took it 
calmly, and when he finished only said, as I thought, 
that if any of us well women were unable to eat as 
much hard tack as a sick soldier, she had better go 
to "Washington at once, and remain there. 

The startling cry of "^ man overhoard^'^ broke 
upon the stillness of the next dark, foggy morning. 
I shall never forget the piercing shriek for help, when 
no help could reach him. The tide was running high, 
and in the thick darkness it was impossible to give 
him any aid, and he sunk to the watery depths. He 
was a nurse, and a good one, and we missed him sadly 
from onr crew. 

We had a rough voyage, all but Mrs. Strouse and 
myself being sea-sick, she complaining merely of a 
headache, while I felt strong for any up-hill work 
which, might lay before me. 

We had a good cup of tea all around, and I de- 
scended into the kitchen to see if anything could be 
found to eke out the scanty supply of food for the 
boys. They were selling hot water for coifee for ten 
cents a pint, and many a poor fellow, whose dirty 
clothing was innocent of currency, went without for 
that cause. 

I could not endure this, preferring rather to brave 
the chances of a hand-to-hand conflict with those 
denizens of the lower regions, than to see the hun- 
ger-pinched faces, and hollow eyes of those who had 
not tasted food or drink for many hours. 



THE VICTOEY. 83 

I got their coffee, promising to make that for 
them, at all events, and down I went, being ordered 
out peremptorily. I did not purpose to go, and was 
deaf to all orders of the kind. They kindly put out 
the fire, and I sat down to await its rekindling. They 
sent up for the first mate, and he came down, furious- 
ly repeating the order to vacate the kitchen. 

I said, '' The Doctor would'nt like to know you 
were making love to me — I am Aunt Becky," and 
he replied, angrily, that if I did not leave forthwith, 
he would throw me overboard. 

I said, " O don't drown me yet — I haven't said, 
positively, I won't have yoij," and he retired in disgust, 
leaving me victor of the field, with ' the exasperated 
darkies punching me every now and then, and regard- 
ing me with looks of intense hate. I did not heed 
things of this sort, a combat usually made me stronger, 
and the boys got their coffee, and it did not cost them 
ten cents a pint either. As I saw them swallowino- 
it from their blackened, battered cups, I wondered if 
I could not find something in the shape of bread to 
help it relish the next time, and I did. 

I found two boxes of hard tack, the owner of 
which seemed a myth, and accepting them as a Prov- 
idential gift in answer to my earnest desires, I knocked 
off the corner of one, and, without a single pang of 
conscience, filled my apron, and distributed the bis- 
cuit among the hungry crew. 

Just as I was opening the second box, Dr. Bunnel, 
the embalmer came up, asking me by what authority 
I was opening his boxes of hard tack, and I, too eager, 



84 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

and fearing to lose the contents, said, " Wlio is opening 
this box — you or I?" He rather thought I was, 
and under the circumstances, he could do no better 
than to yield a graceful assent to the distribution 
amongst the hungry men, and we became very good 
friends from that time. 

On the morning of June sixteenth, on looking 
fi'om my v/indow I saw the grim old Fortress Mon- 
roe looming up against the glimmering daybreak. 
We were nearly on the scene of the conflict between 
the iron clad monsters, when they struggled for mas- 
tery. The waters wherein our wlieels revolved had 
been stirred by the contortions of the giants in the 
close tight. 

It was something for me to look out on to the 
spot, surrounded by the same land-marks, and re- 
member the deep excitement which filled the land, as 
the news of the strange battle was borne over the 
converging wires — to remember how proud New York 
trembled, lest the traitors' hands should guide the rebel 
monster up into her crowded harbor, and her mer- 
chant princes looked upon their wealth, and felt how 
uncertain it was all made by this strange new warfare. 

They hearkened for the report of the red-tongued 
flame which belched from its ungainly port-holes, and 
breathed free only when it had gone to the rusty 
deep, to be garnished by sea mosses, and filled with 
old Ocean's drifting treasures. 

Another day, and we hailed with delight the 
ration barge, which came along with bread and bacon, 
and our men drew full rations. 



PICKLED CABBAGE. 85 

"We were indebted to Capt. Hall of tlie Michigan 
Sharpshooters for this kindness and timely aid ; he 
had j)resented our case, and obtained relief for us. A 
feast of good things seemed to rain upon us, for 
another barge came alongside with a barrel of pickled 
'cabbage on board, its savory smell stealing upon our 
senses with strong desire to partake. 

As no such thing ever hurt sick men, I got a pail 
belonging to one of the nurses, and started for the 
cabbage, she following, calling out vigorously for her 
disappearing pail. 

Our old friends, the cooks from our hospitals, were 
there, kind as ever, and they filled and refilled my 
pail, till the empty barrel remained with only the 
scent to give evidence of what its contents had been. 
It was delicious, and our appreciation of.it should have 
been ample recompense to its owner, or owners who- 
ever they were, making allowance for its appropria- 
tion, in that our stomachs had grown insensible to all 
civilized laws of mine and thine. 

On the seventeenth we could distinctly hear the re- 
port of cannon, and knew that somewhere our men 
were facing the foe in deadly fight. It came boom- 
ing over the water in slow solemn measure, and men 
were hurled to the ground, crushed and lifeless, before 
every thundering discharge. 



CHAPTER Xm. 

On the afternoon of June eighteenth, we reached 
City Point, and landed. We had an excellent meal 
of canned chicken and crackers, from the Christian 
Commission, and sat dowD to await further orders, 
which soon came. We were to walk a mile distance 
to find our shelter for the night. 

It was a motley procession, suggesting Falstaff 's 
Pagged Pegiment, or a Fourth of July demonstra- 
tion of Young America, as we travelled on, each with 
knapsack, and such possessions as could not be dis- 
pensed with. I, more fortunate than some of my 
companions, had provided myself with a coiFee-pot 
and frying-pan, which hung to my knapsack, and tired 
and dusty we kept on our way, regardless of military 
precision, seeking first one side of the road then the 
other, to avoid the thick dust, then forsaking it as 
another path seemed to look more inviting to the 
aching feet. 

Dr. Hays and several others led the way, and a 
surgeon from the Fifth Pegiment Mass. Infantry, 
going from the hospital to join his command, kept up 
wearily with the throng. 

We arrived, and not a tent to shelter our heads, 



A MOTLEY PEOCESSION. 87 

and night coming darkly on. There in an open field 
— in sight of the winding river, we sat down to rest 
awhile, and think of the long dusty, dreary mile inter- 
vening between us and the coveted shelter. 

Backward we took our way — faint and almost 
strangled with the clouds of dust which enveloped 
our jDassage. All the women with the exception of 
Mrs. Strouse and myself— who seemed to be the 
strongest of the set — got into an ambulance, and 
thought themselves fortunate in obtaining such a 
lift in their weary condition. 

An artist would have halted in eager admiration 
of the sight, as we went in single file, the dust fiying 
in gray banners over us, and the gathering darkness 
lending its witchery to help the scene. But step by 
step we conquered the distance, and took a room in the 
building which had been occupied by General Grant 
as his head-quarters, and were supplied by the Chris- 
tian Commission with stretchers, on which to spread 
what bedding we had, to make ourselves more com- 
fortable. 

It was early when we arose, and took a walk to 
view the situation. City Point was not at that time 
an inviting place. Its inhabitants were mostly colored 
people, who had no homes, and had gathered into the 
deserted town from every quarter. There was mate- 
rial, however, which could be made available in our 
new hospital, and the booming of the cannon assured 
us that ere long our work would reach us, borne on 
bloody stretchers from the last battle-field. 

Again the Christian Commission supplied us with 



88 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

a bountiful meal, consisting of coffee, crackers, and 
Bologna sausage — the first clean meal for five days, 
and again at ten o'clock we took up our line of march, 
on the same dusty road, twice travelled before. We 
found the boys busy putting up the hospital tents, and 
at two o'clock they came — the long ghastly train of 
wounded, five hundred strong. 

Some were near death, and amongst them I found 
men from our own regiment. Passing along I was 
accosted by name, but failed to recognize the dirty, 
begrimed soldiers, with torn and bloody uniforms, 
who looked so beseechingly into my face for help. 
They made themselves known as Sergeants Havland 
and Avery, both wounded in the hand. 

They were as hungry as wolves, and I procured 
soup from the Sanitary Commission, and fed them, 
then washed their faces, and dressed their wounds. 
I kept at such work till many a poor fellow was made 
as comfortable as they could be on the ground, for 
our beds had not arrived, and we must have time. 

I found George Keed wounded in the foot, so low- 
spirited and nervous tliat no efforts could cheer him 
up ; thinking constantly of home, and bearing tiic 
pain of his wound with the silence of despair. How 
my heart ached for him, and when I learned that he 
was dead, I thought how the black shadow of dissolu- 
tion had clouded those June days in the hospital, and 
plunged his soul into the depths of its darkness. 

Dr. Snow was relieved at this time, to go to his 
regiment, and Dr. Wheeler put in charge. We had 
kind and faithful nurses and doctors, who did all they 



BLIND FOREVER. 89 

could to mitigate the misery of the wounded, and no 
such privations as stared us in the face at Fredericks- 
burg took away our good spirits. Still we were 
losing our men very fast, and what fearful wounds 
we saw, and what groans of agony we heard, and how 
they suffered tenfold more than death, no tongue 
can tell. 

The hospital, clean and neatly kej)t — the occu- 
pants of its beds freshly dressed, presents no view of 
the tents, when the first tide of wounded pours in, 
and torn and gory uniforms, and powder, and dirt 
hide the features which are as familiar as a brother's, 
and yet he is a stranger till the grim mask is washed 
away. 

With sleeves rolled up, and dress pinned back, it 
was no delicate task to bring them to a state of com- 
fort and comparative cleanliness. I was passing 
through the tents one day, and a soldier asked to see 
me. 

" Are you the nurse they call Aunt Becky ? " he 
said, as I stood at his side. 

I replied affirmatively, and he wished me to sit by 
him, and let him talk of home and friends, which even if 
lie lived he could never see again, for a rifle ball had 
passed through both eyes, destroying the sight for- 
ever. 

It grieved him most that he could not go back to 
his regiment — he would give his life for his country 
if God so willed it, or living, he would bear cheerfully 
to be sightless, if only for her sake. He was a Mas- 
sachusetts soldier, and how often I looked upon her 



90 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

dying lieroes, and thought with pride how nobly the 
old Bay State had provided for her country in men 
and means, and how in times of battle the full streams 
of her Sanitary stores flowed into our crowded hos- 
pitals. 

Many a dying message was given to me for far- 
away friends — many a last farewell was whispered in 
my ear for the dear wife and children, who knew not 
that death was even then snatching away one they 
loved, and for whom they prayed. How I wished 
for the power to bring them to the bedside, and then 
stand away where only my tears might mingle with 
the mourner's. 

But War knows none of the comforts of peaceful 
death beds. No friends and family can watch with 
anxious eye the struggles of the soul to free itself 
from earth. War breaks down all the sweet charities 
which Peace nurtures into life, and dead men lie like 
dumb cattle in a slaughter-house, scarcely heeded, 
unless some tie of blood or spirit bound the living to 
the cold, inanimate corpse when life warmed it. 

Beds and pillows were in plenty now, and we had 
good and sufficient food, while Sanitary supplied us 
with many a little dainty for our sick and exhausted 
soldiers. We were only just made comfortable, when 
another battle's shattered heroes were added to our 
hospital, and our regiment gave its quota to swell 
the list. 

Through the growing corn — under tlie scorching 
summer sun, they had followed their noble general 
to face a determined foe. and many a one had got the 



THE LESSONS OF HOME. 91 

death- wound in his noble breast. But the most entire 
confidence in General Burnside pervaded — a feeling 
that he cared for his soldiers as a father cares for his 
sons — and those who lay wounded and helpless were 
eager to rise, and rush again into the fray. 

A sentiment of humanity seemed to deter him from 
making wild, reckless charges, even though by such, 
without any more danger to himself, he might have 
won a name at once high on the list of victorious 
generals — but he preferred rather the calm judg- 
ment of History, which weighs reckless onslaughts, 
and persistent pressing of the foe with the great loss 
of life, and which will award to him the victor's crown. 

Our hospital soon numbered two thousand wound- 
ed and sick men. Dr. Johnson, head surgeon of our 
regiment, came down to give us his aid in the heavy 
work devolving upon us ; but we were greatly favored 
by the cooks, who granted us favors for the sick in 
season and out of season. 

They were sent from the front at the beginning of 
the campaign, belonging mostly to the Brigade Band, 
and not especially needed at the scene of conflict. 
They had been brought up by 'New England moth- 
ers, and knew that the mysteries of the kitchen were 
closely allied to the sick-room. 

Years before, while the farmer boy sat listlessly by 
the wide open fire in the old home at the I^orth, 
seeming to watch only the red-leaping flame with his 
unspeaking eye, he was learning lessons of the moth- 
er, as she kept up her round of toil, and when the 
green corn-fields of Virginia were trampled by thun- 



92 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

dering artillery, and tlie feet of thousands opposed to 
the death, he gathered up those scraps for practical 
use, and by the knowledge became a benefactor to 
men suffering from the dreadful havoc of war. 

If only strong and bearded men had been accepted 
into the ranks, I could have borne it better to see 
them suffer and die ; but to see faces of youth, fair 
and smooth as a girl's, lying under the coarse blankets, 
and the white lips moaning with the pain of deathly 
wounds, was hard to bear. Men, if they died, seemed 
to possess a life which, because it was wanted, had 
become fully ripe with the glory of perfect manhood. 

1 saw one boy under the surgeon's knife, so white 
and still I almost hoped he Avould never wake to 
know how he must go through life a shattered wreck, 
and the journey just begun. Yet he opened his eyes 
cheerfully upon us, and the mangled limb was tossed 
away like a useless rag, and laid in the bosom of old 
mother earth, only because in her laboratory alone 
it could be resolved into elements inoffensive to living 
man. 

My tent was my fortress, invaded now and then, 
it is true, by the feet of messengers to summon me to 
some sick-bed — still my fortress, where I sat in silent 
hours, and thought of home, and wondered if my 
children missed me, but all with no wish to leave my 
post. Had the war lasted fifty years, and I been liv- 
ing in health, I must still have remained. 'No peace 
would have visited my pillow, knowing that I could 
watch beside the suffering, and impart one ray of 
comfort. 



REPOSING ON LAURELS. 93 

As I lay down at night on mj iron bedstead,, and 
looked about the little cloth shelter, seeing: the evi- 
dences of kindness shown to me by them all, I thought 
how fortunate I was in thus being provided for with 
comforts, when others were glad of one-half my ac- 
commodations. 

N^ever in my life have I been treated with more 
respect and consideration, than while a nurse in the 
Volunteer Army. If woman respects herself, men 
will respect her. Our soldiers were men — some, many 
of them, the noblest and best in the land, and no 
woman, whose motives were pure, would have been 
called to blush in their presence. 

In my admiration of the high character of our 
men as a whole, I thought often and eagerly how, 
when the war was over, if I had control of the Treas- 
ury, I would give good gifts to every returned soldier, 
when, disabled and war-worn, he should sit down to 
repose on his laurels. 

I thought how comfortable they would be, if 
amongst a score were divided what a few great men 
now received to ventilate our Americanism abroad; 
what happy, cheerful homes I would provide for those 
whose dear ones fell in the battle's shock, or died of 
wounds in the hospitals near the field. 



CHAPTER Xiy. 

Daily our men dropped away. Oh ! so sad were 
those recurring death-beds ; again and again I stood 
beside them, and heard delirious words and lost whis- 
pers, till I thought my heart would break with every 
new weight of woe it carried. 

For those whose names were lost on the dear lips 
which the clay of a strange land would soon cover 
over, I could weep tears of bitter, bitter sorrow. E'ot 
for the dead, who was a hero fore verm ore, but for 
those who waited and watched, and saw the sun sink 
in its glory, and when it rose again, knew that they 
were desolate. 

Our hospital corps of women nurses numbered 
ten, and our work was hard amongst so many sick 
and wounded, to which we were receiving daily acces- 
sions. 'Not an hour of daylight passed when the 
booming of cannon was not heard, and many a one 
got his death-wound, when no official report of battle 
was sent forth to the anxious nation. They died 
when no array of deathly conflict stirred the pulses 
into martial fever. 

July 3d, learning tliat one of our One Hundred 
and Ninth men lay at Division Hospital badly wound- 



A VISIT TO THE FEONT. 95 

ed, and could not live, I resolved to make a visit up 
to the front, and see if anything could be done for 
him. 

There seemed no way open, only that I should go 
on horseback, and, looking about me, I found that 
Colonel Catlin had gone up to Washington sick, and 
unable to do duty, leaving his horse at City Point. 
One of our boys, John Lawrence, who was doing duty 
at the hospital, proposed to accompany me, I on the 
colonel's horse ; and in the morning at six o'clock we 
started on our journey. 

The great noble creature which I rode was so worn 
and poor, that the side-saddle which I had borrowed 
of one of the ladies of the Second Corps turned re- 
peatedly, myself and the bag of articles which I was 
taking up from the Christian Commission going off 
together. Lawrence tightened the girth, and on we 
went over the lonesome road literally lined with the 
graves of our dead. 

No Christian homes brightened the way. The 
houses, stormed by shot and shell, were deserted, only 
as our men on duty along the lines used them for a 
shelter against the inclement weather. 

Mj riding-habit seemed to attract considerable at- 
tention from its novelty, being a striped bed-tick, 
thick and of great service in my work, and a black 
hat which I had worn in my hospital rounds. Sol- 
diers laughed and stared at us as we rode along, but 
unheedingly we were enjoying the fresh morning air, 
and the exhilaration of a horseback ride. 

At ten o'clock we reached the Division Hospital, 



96 THih NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

and I made inquiries for the wounded man, Private 
Kresge, and was taken to his side. It was the third 
day, and his wound yet undressed. 

1 rolled up my sleeves, and went to work over the 
horrible fissure, now festering with the putrid dis- 
charges. The doctor said I had better do something 
for those who were likely to live, not waste my time 
and strength on a dying man. 

I replied that if he died it made no difference ; he 
would not be buried with the shameful evidence of 
his neglect still upon him ; he could be no worse than 
he was, and I should not let him lie with his wounds 
untouched. 

The doctor hoped I would not hurt the man 
any more than I could help, and with this precau- 
tionary remark, ordered one of the nurses to assist me, 
and we went to the hard task. 

The rifle-ball had gone in at the back of his neck, 
tearing through, and coming out at his nostrils. As 
we syringed the cleansing preparation into his ear, it 
discharged at both apertures, and was a painful ope- 
ration for us all, yet he bore it bravely. "When he 
was made as comfortable as possible, we found two 
more whose condition was as pitiable as his had been, 
and we washed and dressed their wounds also, and 
gave them something to eat. 

We could not return without a sight at the boys, 
who were lying in reserve in a dreadful place, about 
a mile distant. We reached it by going across the 
old battle-field, and there under a beautiful tree was 
pointed out to my notice the grave of one of our no- 



GKEETrN-GS. " 97 

ble officers, Captain "Warwick, wlio fell with his face 
to the foe, and was buried where he died. He was 
mourned sincerely by the whole regiment as one of 
their kindest and bravest officers. 

On we went — ^my war-horse jumping over the 
fallen logs, and plunging into the hollows to the im- 
minent risk of my bones ; but the hanging-on process 
could not keep my mind from dwelling on the scenes 
so lately enacted on that same stretch of ground be- 
fore me, and I seemed to hear the rattle of musketry, 
and the screeching of shells as they sent their death- 
dealing messengers into • the ranks of the living, 
breathing men, and they fell like the tender flowers 
of summer before the sudden black frosts of ]!!^o- 
vember. 

We reached them at last, and were greeted heart- 
ily — one little darky remarking that is was good for 
sore eyes to see a white lady, and " one dat didn't 
put on no style." 

I sought the shelter of Captain Knettle's tent, and 
my reception-room was soon filled to its utmost capac- 
ity. I experienced some of the poetry of their situa- 
tion, as standing beside the tent we heard the shrill 
screaming of a shell, and saw it fall only a short dis- 
tance from the door. The little darky said, " Missus, 
you'd better git out dar ; dem rebs don't mind the 
ladies no more'n dey do gemmen — hain't got no man- 
ners, no how." 

The rifle-balls whistled through the trees, cutting 
through the green foliage with murderous sharpness, 
as though angered because they found no human heart 
5 



98 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATKON. 

to riot within. It was a nervous place for a woman ; 
but I endured it, rather feeling a kind of enthusiasm 
in the nearness to danger and death. 

We remained to dinner, enjoying exceedingly the 
hard tack fried in bacon grease. At four o'clock p. m. 
we left en route for the Division Hospital again, for 
I was anxious to see my patients once more, and ex- 
act a promise that they should be sent up to our hos- 
pital as soon as possible. 

I found them as I left them, and the second day 
they were brought to our Corps Hospital. Of the 
three men, one died, a young Michigan soldier, who 
was shot just above the lungs, and was delirious till 
he breathed the last. 

The day of our visit to Division Hospital, we had 
been invited by our sanitary agents to take a sail on 
the river, but I preferred my visit up to the front ; 
and when we returned, and learned what had occur- 
red to the pleasure-party, we were glad that we de- 
clined. In the excitement of the ride, they ventured 
too far with the boat, and were fired into by guerrillas, 
and a Mr. Wilson, one of the noblest men connected 
witli the Sanitary Commission^ was shot, and lived 
only a short time. The women were panic-struck, 
and the excitement was intense. 

I received, on the 4:th of July, a testimonial from 
the men of our regiment, in the shape of one hun- 
dred and seventy-five dollars in greenbacks, and 
could uot keep back the tears from my eyes, when I 
thought how kind they all were to me, and I doing 
nothing but my duty. 



RED TAPE. 99 

We worked and wrought, till the regularity of 
clock-work governed all the movements in the hos- 
pital. We were divided into three divisions, and a 
cook-house attached to each. Mrs. Hazen was in 
charge of that belonging to the Cliristian Commission, 
and I iu charge of the Sanitary, to cook for the sick 
and wounded. The men cooked for the conva- 
lescents. 

In my eagerness to improve the most of my time 
for the benefit of the sick, I drew largely upon the 
stores, and some in charge fearing that the supply on 
their own tables might fall short too soon, began to 
complain, and I left, to the sorrow of the boys and 
the delight of the agents. 

After that, when I desired anything for the sick 
it came hard indeed. 

We had a printing-press, and as everything had 
to be procured by order, and as every kind of handi- 
craft known to the arts of peace had representatives 
in our army, a sergeant from the Fourteenth Heavy 
Artillery issued orders from the office daily, and with 
them sanitary stores and diet rations were procured. 

We had to cut just the same length of red tape, 
if a man lay dying for the need of a pin's worth. It 
was necessary to systematize the arrangements, and 
necessary that every one should conform to the regu- 
lations ; but my impetuous nature would vent itself 
now and then, when sick men moaned, and the de- 
sired article was going through the slow process of 
the rules. 

We had a laundry estabb'shed by the river-side, 



100 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

where the colored people did the washing for the 
hospital and for us. Spencer, from the Twentieth 
Michigan Regiment, had charge of the clothing, 
as it was distributed weekly amongst the different 
wards. 

It was quite amusing to go down to the river, and 
watch the gambols of the little darkies, whose fathers 
and mothers worked over the wash-troughs. The 
great black hose throwing its steady stream of water 
into the boiler was a source of some mystery to them, 
as they carefully avoided treading on its serpentine 
length, regarding it in the light of a living thing well 
calculated to inspire awe and respect. 

I had little time to get interested in this portion 
of our people who were fleeing out of Egypt — my 
white brothers had my entire soul. I went one night 
to look upon the corpse of an old wrinkled woman 
who had died, one of their number, over whose sable 
remains the moans of loud lamentations resounded. 

Naught belonging to the deceased could ever be 
used by a single blood relation, and her scanty pos- 
sessions were soon scattered amongst the group of 
sympathizing friends around. 

She looked very calm in her last sleep ; the slave 
could wear no more fetters in that land — that blessed 
country from which no tinge of Africa's hue can de- 
bar the uprising spirit. Those hard bony hands had 
done their work on plantation, and in the planter's j 
kitchen, and those dimmed eyes had looked upon the 
deliverers, as they broke the bondage of her people. 

She could well lie down in peace, while children 



EXASPERATED LOVEK. 101 

and grandchildren were left to solve the problem of 
newly found liberty. 

IS'o doubt there were amongst those sable men 
souls of unquestioned courage, but I have laughed 
over the dismal bowlings of those wounded so slight- 
ly that our merest boys would have blushed to notice 
it ; and in the light attacks of sickness the contortions 
were like death to the uninitiated. 

They were a careless, happy set, as they lolled by 
the river, and enjoyed themselves in camp. Their 
prayer-meetings often ended with dancing, and song, 
in which the negro element was exhibited in its per- 
fection. They had many privileges, good rations — 
sometimes better than our own men, and were under 
far less restraint. 

They wooed and wedded — had feasts and funerals, 
and tlie young ebonies sported by the water, oftimes 
tumbling in to the trembling horror of the maternal 
heart. One young fellow with his " girl " paraded 
our streets one day, and one of our nurses, a mere 
boy, thinking to tease him a little in his pomposity, 
made a pretence of falling in love with the dusky 
beauty, making soft, melting speeches to touch her 
heart. The negro, enraged, sprung upon him, opened 
his jack-knife, and with the ferocity of a savage cut 
the boy's throat from ear to ear. 

The boy was taken up severely wounded, and 

' months elapsed before his recovery. Some friends of 

the negro removed him secretly to Washington, to 

escape the vengeance which would have fallen on bim 

had he remained at City Point. I never knew that 



102 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

any action was taken in the matter, and it was a bit- 
ter thonght with the boys long after, that a negro 
could do with impunity what would have cost a white 
man his life. 



CHAPTER XV. 

EvEiiYTHiNG had grown into the routine of the 
strictest military discipline, as City Point became the 
centre of hospitals, and the booming cannon sent its 
mangled victims thick and fast upon us. The hot sun 
of July poured down upon our heads, and a hotter 
fire burned beneath the devoted fort at Petersburg. 

Who that listened to the heavy cannonading on 
the thirtieth of July, and heard the terrible explosion, 
will forget the horrors of the scenes which were pre- 
sented on the battlefield, as men were mown down 
like ripe grain in the harvest-time. 

"We worked faithfully to make room for the new 
recruits which we knew would soon be furnished. We 
cooked, and I remember how the simple fact ot 
severely burning my dress as I stood between two 
stoves, annoyed me, from the reason that I thought no 
time could be spared to mend it. Mrs. Spencer of the 
ISTew York Relief gave me tobacco to distribute to the 
freshly wounded who should come in, and be unable 
to procure it. Abominating the habit as I did, yet I 
enjoyed a great amount of satisfaction in knowing 
that I had in my possession that which — weed as it 



104 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

was — would brighten up many a poor soldier's face, 
and help him to forget the heavy dull pain of throb- 
bing wounds. 

Some of our wounded were to be removed to Wash- 
ington to make room for the scores of freshly muti- 
lated men which the bloody thirtieth had •furnished. 
One of the men had given me his money to keep while 
ill, and was ordered on board the transport, State of 
Maine, before I was aware of it. I knew, in the city, 
he would want many things which were not included 
in hospital furnishing, and went to the landing, to see 
him if possible, and return the money. 

The surgeon in charge stood by the plank which 
rested on both boat and shore, and with no ceremony 
I stepped upon the narrow way, and was about to 
pass up, when he stopped me with the information 
that no person could be allowed to go on board the 
boat without special orders. 

I stated my errand, and he said, " Give me the 
money, I will iind your soldier." 

I replied, that small as the sum was it went into 
no hands but the owner's from mine, and turned away 
as if giving up the contest. But my will was going 
to be obeyed, and while the Doctor was busy with 
some person aside, I passed the guard, went on to tlie 
tower-deck, found the soldier, and gave him the 
money, returning safely. 

As I passed the surgeon I could not resist the in- 
clination to let him know that a woman had set his 
authority at naught, and thanking him for his kind- 
ness. I added that the- boys looked very comfortable. 



SUN-STROKE. 105 

He said quickly, " Did you go on board ? " 

" Certainly," I replied, and very angrily he asked 
if I had not received orders to the contrary. 

" Only verbal ones, which will hardly stand law," 
I answered defiantly, and passed on, leaving him 
doubtless revolving the problem of woman's perv^erse- 
ness and obduracy. 

I never found resistance from the guards — and red- 
tape I could endure only as it was sewn on to the 
white ground-work with many stars, and floated in 
the free air of heaven. 

It was an awful suspense for us who waited for 
the long, ghastly procession of men to be brought in, 
and we knew what shapeless, gaping wounds would 
open their bloody lips under our hands. The days 
were intensely hot, and I volunteered to help make 
the chicken broth with which we were to feed the 
wounded as they were brought from the battle-field. 

Our cook-stove was in the open air, and no shelter 
over us. I wore a black hat, not considering the 
consequence, and soon, as I began my work over the 
heated stove, and under the broiling sun, I grew blind 
and staggered speechless away, and remained in a 
senseless stupor for some hours. When returning 
consciousness dawned upon me, vague fears and hopes 
shaped themselves in my mind, with the variety and 
rapidity of a kaleidoscope. 

"With the good care given me by Dr. Hays and 
the nurses, I was able the next day to be about ; but, 
on the recurring hour of noon each day, for many 
weeks, I was blind for some moments. 
5* 



106 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

The wounded were brought in, and we were ap- 
palled at their number, when we thought of the slain, 
which must be in proportion. Every tent was filled 
to its utmost capacity, and still they were borne in ; 
ghastly wrecks were some of them, who only came to 
die. Ropes were hoisted, and blankets laid over 
them to keep out the blinding heat of the sun, till 
busy hands could put up additional tents. 

Some twenty rebels were brought in — and they 
seemed to bear their siilferings well — as wounded 
prisoners of war. I think they were glad to find 
rest and sufiicient food. They were great, gaunt men, 
who looked likely to have lived on scanty rations all 
their days. 

Our men died rapidly from fever and wounds, and 
it seemed impossible to rise from the depression 
which each new death caused. 

It was piteoas to hear them moan so sadly, yet 
utter no words of complaint. A little drummer-boy, 
only thirteen years of age, who belonged to a Rhode 
Island regiment, was taken with bleeding at the 
lungs, and moaned only for his mother. She would 
be all alone, he said, for his father died wlien he was 
only ten years of age. He asked me to write, and 
tell her how it went with her boy ; and I sat there 
holding the dying child in my arms. I thought how 
her poor stricken heart would agonize over the cruel, 
cruel blow. 

She wrote a reply to my letter, and it was read 
with tears, long after her boy was laid to sleep in the 
hospital grave-yard at City Point. I learned of the 



THE UNRECOGNIZED SOLDIER. 107 

killed in our regiment as one after another was 
brought in, by whose side they had been stricken 
down. Lieut. Griswold and Sergeant Fish were of 
the first killed, whose names were given to me then, 
and my heart grew sad when I remembered how I 
had seen them last, and shuddered and trembled lest 
I should hear of some whose blood was as my own in 
the throbbing pulses of my heart. 

They told me Chester Phezonias was killed, and I 
thought of the meeting in the land where there are no 
more desolate hearts and hearths, while one body 
slept on the field where he died, and one in the hos- 
pital grave-yard at Fredericksburg. 

Sergeant-Major Bristol was wounded in the hand, 
and Sergeant Root lost his right arm, and came to us, 
remaining but a few days, however, and going thence 
to Washington to give room to men lower with 
wounds than they. 

Colonel Catlin came in with one foot lost, and 
Lieut-Colonel Stillson with a ball in his shoulder, 
both wounded while leading a charge in front of 
Petersburg, and with them Private Delos Hubburt, 
hurt on the same day and ground. 

One little incident occurred which pained me ex- 
ceedingly. One of our men, Private Youngs, was 
brought in so changed by dirt and grim, and suiferings, 
that I did not recognize him, and, although he called 
me "Aunt Becky," it did not occur to me that he was 
any one in whom I was particularly interested, as 
coming from our regiment. 

I had learned that he was wounded, and had been 



108 THE NINTH COKPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

making search for him, but not till after he died was 
made aware of the fact that I had been nursing him 
for a whole day, and had not known him. 

He was such a sufferer that I forbade all unneces- 
sary questions, and kept him as quiet as possible. 
He tried at the last to say something to me, but it 
was unintelligible, and he died with his unknown 
secret, himself unknown. I thought, perhaps, I could 
have received some sign if I had known him, and it was 
so hard to think of his dying thus, while 1 stood by his 
bed, and could not convey the message of the dying 
to those who loved him, and of whom his latest 
thoughts and words were spoken. 

A small hospital was established nearer the river 
for those in government employ, when ours w^as over- 
crowded with the battle's unripe harvest, and Mrs. 
Dunbar, one of our best nurses, and my closest friend, 
went there to do duty. I was very lonely after she 
went, still I knew she would do more good in that 
position than any other one of whom I had knowl- 
edge, and remembered that I was not in the army for 
social enjoyment or the sweets of friendship, and so 
held my peace, wondering when the war would be 
over, and we could ail go home out of the sight of 
wounds, and such painful deaths. 

I thought of the ending that there would be thrills 
of regret at parting — ^heart-aches at the breaking of 
those ties so cemented by blood ; but the nation and 
the nation's soldiers yearned for peace, and its pur- 
suits, and so we waited patiently for tLe end. 



CHAPTER XVL 

Rumors of a change in onr cooking establishment 
made a little flutter amongst ns. Things were going 
on so smoothly in the worn groove, that we hardly 
liked the prospect of adapting ourselves to a new or- 
der of things. The kitchens were so cleanly and well 
aired, and everything scoured to snowy whiteness. 
Brawny arms, with more than a Bridget's strength, 
I reached the perfection of a model housekeeper's ideas 
in the cleansing of the unpainted tables and shelves. 

But change was the order of the day — military 
( rules were arbitrary, and. we bore it all in outward 
silence. 

Our mess-room was directly back of the medical 
dispensary, and our cooks made chairs for each, sur- 
prising us one day with seats independent of the 
movements of our neighbors. Owing to some over- 
sight, or a mistake in somebody's arithmetic, we fell 
short one seat, and they extemporized a nail-keg, 
which, falling to the lot of one of our women, caused 
a storm of indignation to arise, and she left the table 
determined to avenge the insult. And she did report 
to the surgeon in charge, and was ridiculed for her 



110 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

tenacious holding to the idea of an intended insult, 
\Yhen no thought of one liad entered their brains. 

We had good and sufficient food, still some of the 
convalescents, witli appetites sharpened by late fevers, 
failed to receive all which their voracious stomachs 
craved, and my tent became the repository for all odd 
bits from the cooks, and under its white shelter I 
dealt out the broken remnants, and wished I could 
augment the store by miracle or material means — I 
was not fastidious which, if the substance was only at 
my hand. 

I knew one man who would eat three loaves of 
bread, with crackers in proportion, and still be hun- 
gered for more. My heart ached for him as his wist- 
ful eyes would scan my board for some bit of extra 
food remaining, and I gave him again and again. 

The chief cook forbid the under men giving me 
these extra things — he was an enemy to " calico," and 
seemed to take particular pleasure in foiling me in 
attempts to get additions to a sick man's rations. 

My great cloak, which enveloped my person com- 
pletely, served me a good turn then — for many a 
chunk of dried beef, basins of custard, cans of milk, 
and balls of butter were smuggled out of the kitchen 
by the cooks under its ample folds, and the sick men 
brightened at my coming. 

He moved on in his consequential dignity, uncon- 
scious how he was being outwitted, regarding me 
with glances which plainly said, " You are only a 
woman — I think you get only what I will you should 
out of this establishment.^' I contracted a dislike for 



SANITARY AGENTS. Ill 

him, whicli culminated into almost absolute hatred, 
when one morning I saw him absolutely Icick a con- 
valescing soldier in the mess-room, accusing him of 
taking a piece of bread which he said lay on a plate 
on the table, which accusation was emphatically de- 
nied. 

I felt in my anger as though I wished God would 
strike him dead, and end his miserable existence. To 
put on the authority and air of a major-general, and 
then to descend into such depths of meanness, and 
knowing his real position before taking charge here, 
was sickening indeed. 

At the head of a drum-and-fife band, this man, 
without moral sense, was set over those of immense 
superiority, with kindly hearts, and it was quite a 
trial to me to see him retain his position when I 
would have made him the lowest drudge over the 
washing of pots and kettles, in the vilest depths of 
the cook-house, and hardly think him good enough to 
do that work either. 

Many thanks to those with him, I suffered but 
little from his meanness, and few luxuries were with- 
held from the sick, for goodness of heart triumphed 
over the brief authority of the conceited fellow, and 
we went our several ways without conflict. My en- 
larged proportions at times, as I went demurely from 
the kitchen laden with the good things, made a little 
flutter at my heart, but I braved the storm, and 
weathered the voyage to my wards in safety, each 
and every time. 

Thus men of low calibre, and full of wretched 



112 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

self, often got in places of trubt, and caused us much 
annoyance in the exercise of their authority to with- 
hold. 

Such, at one time, was the man dispensing sani- 
tary stores. Cases of fruit, put up by loving hands to 
tempt a sick soldier's taste, went into rich pies to 
garnish his dinner table, and wines bottled to revive 
a sinking wounded body, which some one loved and 
prayed for, went down throats where water was sel- 
dom a beverage. But there were good and humane 
men also with Sanitary, and of them I never failed 
to obtain what I wished. 

Of the Christian Commission we invariably pro- 
cured the desired article, if in their stores. Their 
labor was voluntary, and of course only the benevo- 
lent-hearted, in a spirit of humanity, could afford to 
give away six weeks of valuable time in dispensing 
the comforts to those who had nearly given up sweet 
life for their country's sake, while those in the Sani- 
tary department received from fifty to a hundred 
dollars per month, which, with the chancs of fare 
which they had, and the position which it gave, made 
it quite an object. 

I had an order one day from Surgeon Yount to 
get some brandy for a man who lay very low — (we 
had orders for only a pin's worth from Sanitary) — 
and wanted the best, and •' our " Commissioner would 
not let me have it, saying they had none. In less 
than an hour I met one of our cooks returning from 
the same place, and he said, " Look here. Aunt 
Becky," while with a little laugh of satisfaction 



THE DYING PATIENT. 113 

he took out a well-filled flask of tlie purest brandy 
from under his blouse, and his eyes sparkled with 
the beaded fleck of foam, at the mouth of the 
bottle. 

Well, I was intensely angry — ^the man for whose 
use I needed that bottle of liquor, given to a boon 
companion for a carousal, was sinking fast, and we 
had nothing but poor " Commissary whiskey" to give 
him, and he soon died. In my heart I believe he 
would have rallied if I had obtained for him the 
brandy which I coveted so much, and which went to 
wet the lips of a drunkard. 

I told him of it— ^I could not resist the inclination 
to let him know that by the fact of his withholding, 
one brave man had gone, and that the poor whiskey 
w^as unfit for medicine in any shape. He said, " It 
is such as Government furnishes for Government 
troops," and I replied that I did not wonder Sanitary 
could not furnish any for the soldiers, when they em- 
ployed such great stout men as he, who gulped down 
a glass full of raw liquid fire at once, and to whom 
water would be a dangerous mixing. 

I never saw these men dress a wound while I was 
in the hospital. The most they could do for the boys, 
to make a demonstration, was to run from tent to tent 
with a little bag fastened at their sides holding a 
dozen sheets of paper split in two, and three or four 
shirts and as many pairs of drawers, and it sometimes 
took more than one to that. 

One right-minded woman, having charge of what 
the wives, and sisters, and mothers had sent down to 



114 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

US with prayers and tears, for those who languished 
in the fever of wounds, or from exposure to the mala- 
ria of swamps, could have wrought far better work in 
their distribution than these great, unfeeling men, who 
grew fat on the rich spoils. 

A woman's taste is generally considered as accu- 
rate in regard to testing the freshness of canned 
peaches, or the purity of domestic wines, and they 
could have pronounced upon them, too, without taking 
the most of the contents to fill dishes on their own 
table. 

Of course abuses will exist — but in this matter of 
providing comforts for those whose lives hung by the 
merest thread, I would be severe in protesting against 
the employment of men wherein the least sign of self- 
ish appropriation appeared. 

Too many a one I have seen turn away from the 
plain toast, or crackers, when half a peach, or a dozen 
red cherries would have made his eyes sparkle, and 
the lagging appetite come, urging the parched tongue 
to partake. 

I went sadly away from that dying man, and won- 
dered where selfishness would end, and if the legiti- 
mate object of war was to harden men's souls to the 
miseries of their brothers, till they could look upon 
dead and dying men with no compunctious feeling for 
what they had withheld, wliich might have been a 
timely salvation to the exhausted body. 

Such scenes stirred me to the depths of my nature, 
and my blood boiled, and my cheeks glowed, till only 
in the quiet of my little tent could I regain the com- 



DREAM OF CHILDHOOD. 115 

posure necessary for a steady hand over the distress- 
ing wounds which I dressed daily. 

The Christian Commission built a church, and 
sometimes of an evening I would sit within it, with 
head bowed down, listening to prayer and hymn, and 
wondering if I was at home again, in the little gray 
church under the hill-side pastures, and if those men 
whose voices were raised in exhortation, were our 
neighbors and our friends, fresh from the clover fields 
which I knew then were red with many blossoms, and 
the bees were humming over them in the drowsy 
afternoons. 

I could cheat my lieart awhile — I liked to think 
of the ripple of the brook plashing over the white 
stones, moistening beds of spongy moss, and scattering 
drops of dew on bending brake, and lonely water- 
weed. I was a child again — taking the wood-path to 
the school-house, looking up into the tall trees with 
feelings akin to worship, and tracing the sun's witchery 
through the quivering leaves, down into the dark 
brown mould, grown so rich with the decay of cen- 
turies. The quiet way — the hushed repose of the 
country in the summer sunshine, came with sweeping 
force upon me, and with a wild rush of feeling I lifted 
up my head to see blue army uniforms about me — 
crutches leaning against the bare walls, and I realized 
that I was an army nurse, down near the battle-fields, 
where "It was no place for women." 

We had a reading-room attached to the same be- 
nevolent Commission, and the studious convalescent 
could lose 'himself and his misery in the pages of 



116 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

books, wliich only a little while before lay on tables, 
and in peaceful libraries in bis own beloved ^N'ortb. 

I had so little to do in arranging my toilet that I 
enjoyed the look of surprise by which strangers sig- 
nified their thoughts of my appearance. I presume I 
was called the worst dressed woman in the whole 
army, for a little satchel held my wardrobe after los- 
ing my trunk, and I certainly could not have cared 
for a " Saratoga " full of dresses and accompaniments. 

My pair of bedtick dresses were strong, and would 
bear washing well, and when they were clean I gave 
no more attention to my attire, but with sleeves pin- 
ned up, had no scruples about going into any work 
for fear of soiling my dress. 

I went to church so arranged, and enjoyed the 
sermons as thoroughly as though clad in a velvet 
robe, when those poor men with torn and dirty uni- 
forms were waiting for me on beds of pain. My straw 
hat sheltered me from the scorching sun, and when, as 
often I did, it was taken from my head to cover a 
soldier's whose cap had gone in the battle's charge, 
Sanitary would furnish me another. 

My feet were very comfortable in slippers three 
sizes too large for them, and as I had no matrimonial 
designs on that motley throng of men, it was all the 
same, and they welcomed me with my hands full of 
rations as kindly as though clad like a queen. 

Heart entanglements were hardly safe then, as 
some found to their cost — too many men married, yet 
sported with ripe afiections, when they were thrust 
upon them, and the poor deluded woman awoke to 



THE FAITHFUL HUSBAND. 117 

the knowledge of wife and children only soon enough 
to save herself from a desperate heart-break. 

I was laughed at for a little incident which occur- 
red one day, testifying to one man's faithfulness to 
his wife — even in thought. 

One morning the doctor called for me to go and 
cheer up a man in Ward B, who was so low-spirited 
he was in danger of running down and dying soon, 
and I must do something to rally him, if possible. I 
went to his side, and said, "]N'ow I have got you — 
the doctor says if I can raise you, I can have you all 
to myself, and it will be so nice, when the war is 
over, to take a father back to my children." 

I will never forget the look which staggered me 
as he opened his weary eyes, and said faintly, but 
firmly, " My good woman, I have got a wife at home." 
' The poor fellow's thoughts were with her even then, 
and his sinking spirits longing for her presence. I 
wondered if that wife knew how true and noble her 
^ husband was, and then fell to thinking how strange a 
thing was the human heart, and that the great want 
of truth of which people complain lies in their own 
souls. Be true to ourselves, and no one will do us 
great harm by being false to us. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Our hospital was a great laboratory of sighs. 
Many a brave man breathed out the last whisper to 
us when death fastened upon his heart. We were 
called upon to listen to delirious ravings, and to the 
hardly articulate words of those whose struggle for 
life was hard and long. Youth lay before ns with 
fair locks, and face as smooth as a girl's, and with 
them the bullet had done its work at last. 

One of seventeen years, who was mortally woimd- 
ed through the lungs, sent a messenger for me one 
day, having heard my name spoken by some of his 
comrades, and I hastened to his ward. Very cheer- 
fully he asked me how many hours I thought he 
could live, and I said, "You may live a day, and 
perhaps longer," for it was useless and cruel to de- 
ceive when they themselves knew that death hovered 
near them. 

He only sighed, and turned his face away for a 
moment, then asked me brightly if I would play 
checkers with him, adding, " It will bring home back 
clearer to me than anything else, for my sister played 
with me the last evening we spent at home — and we 
used to be so happy together." 



THE LAST GAME. 119 

I got tlie board and played several games with 
Mm, but not being an adept at tbe work, of course 
he beat me every time. He would pause to rest, and 
his features would often contract with the heavy 
throb of pain, and his breathing was a difficult labor. 
Yet he let no complaint fall from his lips. 

He wished me to write to his friends that he had 
died for his country, and was willing, and that his 
last hours were spent in thoughts of them. He died 
peacefully not long after he had finished the last 
game, and thus early life's story was told for him. 

I could not keep my tears back from my eyes 
when I covered the face of the young dead, and left 
him in his peaceful slumber. 

Captain Lee, of the One Hundred and Eleventh 
Pennsylvania Volunteers, was brought iUj bayoneted 
through the right leg, and suffered the most intense 
agony. He was delirious nearly all the time, but in 
his rational moments talked of his wife, and sustained 
the cause in which he was suffering, and was so sure 
that success would crown the efforts of our noble 
general. 

He died, and a sister came for his coffined re- 
mains, bearing them back in sadness to the lonely- 
hearted wife, in her desolate home. 

A Lieut. Dupree, from a Rhode Island regiment, 
came in badly wounded, also in the leg, and for two 
days and nights the nurses relieved each other, as 
they sat with fingers pressed on the severed artery, to 
keep the life-blood from ebbing away till his wife 
could reach him. 



120 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

She came with his brother, and only God and 
those who have felt it can tell the agony with which 
she caught his dying look, and knew that the man 
she loved was so near his death. "No efforts to save 
him availed, and all we could do after the spirit was 
gone, was to make the poor lifeless body ready for 
the silent journey homeward. 

One man from a Michigan regiment, who was 
wounded through the brain, I cared for myself, shav- 
ing his head, and dressing the wound carefully. He 
seemed quite comfortable, and was rational at times ; 
but they had told me from the first it was of no use to 
waste strength and time on a dead man, and on the 
third day he died. 

He was a noble-looking fellow — somebody's pride ; 
and I wished that those who loved him could see the 
peaceful look which his features wore, and take him 
to the dear old spot to sleep his last sleep, afar from 
the din of battles. 

A woman came from Pennsylvania to our hos- 
pital to see her husband, who was reported as badly 
wounded through the head, with no hopes of his re- 
covery. When- she arrived, with a little tender babe 
in her arms, how my heart ached for her, and for the 
little one who should never look upon its father's liv- 
ing face, for he had been dead and buried three days. 
• The old father came with his daughter-in-law, 
and the last act they could render to his lifeless re- 
mains, was to remove them from the scene of his 
death, back to the sacred soil wherein each and every 
one of us desires to repose, when life's fitful dream 



THE LITTLE BABE. 121 

is over — tlie cliurcli-yard under the shadow of our 
native hills. 

It was a rare treat to see a little white baby, ebony 
ones had been in plenty — but a little white baby, 
with twining flaxen hair, and laughing blue eyes, and 
rosy mouth, was a rare treat for us. Its dimpled 
hands wandering over the bronzed faces of the sol- 
diers, made many a one think, with tears almost up 
to his eyes, of nameless little ones so far away, as I 
carried the pretty fatherless child from tent to tent. 

Many an eye moistened as I told the story of its 
father's death, and many a one thought of the sweet 
darlings, from the lumpy baby of two months to two 
years, who might soon, alas 1 be fatherless like that 
tender one. 

I saw the widow take the child to her bosom, and 
thought how it would grow to full stature, and never 
know, only as an old story, of the journey to the hos- 
pital, where the sight of its father's dead face was the 
only consolation to the bereaved mother. 

So many sick and wounded were crowded into the 
tents, and the transports taking away fewer than ar- 
rived, we were obliged to shelter them as we could, 
and my small house was given to five men, Lieut. 
Austin of our regiment, his brother, Private Strong, 
and two soldiers from Western regiments, while we 
women all went into one tent to sleep. 

Chaplain Washburn took us in his way to join the 

regiment, and was very kind in his efforts to assist us. 

Erin Yan Kirk, of the One Hundred and JSTinth, was 

very sick at the time, and my hands were filled with 

6 



122 THE NINTH COKPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

work. Major Dunn, Captains Gordon and Mont, 
were ill also, and tlie duties were arduous which de- 
volved upon me, more because I had taken every man 
of that brave regiment into my heart as a brother, 
and wished to watch over them as such. 

We had some cases of gangrene which proved 
fatal to all who were attacked. So suddenly, while 
we thought the wound was healing, the poison infused 
itself into the festering sore, and death came, a speedy 
release from the agony of pain. 

So sad it made my heart as one after another 
dropped away, and others came in with bloody wounds, 
some from the beloved regiment, of whose welfare my 
whole being was so solicitous. The rebel lines seem- 
ed impregnable, and the dire casualties of such fre- 
quent occurrence, that I grew sick with apprehension, 
and wondered if the bloody carnage was to fill up the 
measure of our material existence. 

Captain Knettles came in with his right eye shot 
out — a painful wound, and a brave man to endure 
the pain. Then came the terrible news of Sergeant 
Jerome Woodbury's death, killed August 19th, and 
there were many sad hearts in our regiment, for he 
had a host of friends to mourn his death. And Capt. 
Mitchel wounded also, of Co. K., his sister with him. 

Well, I just began to think that Miss Mitchel will 
have a proposal soon, for there is a certain doctor 
from the Second Corps that visits my tent rather often, 
and I do not think he comes to see me ; for it would 
be so funny if a shoulder-strap should take so much 
notice of Aunt Becky. 



THE NAMELESS GRAVE. 123 . 

Woodbury was down to see me the day before his 
death, and as he left my tent he said, " I feel sensible 
that I am not going to get out alive," and his predic- 
tion proved true. A mother's heart bled at the loss 
of her hero son ; was there not also a throb of pride 
that he died such a good soldier — such a brave, noble- 
hearted man ? 

Every effort was made to find his body, but they 
were unavailing. His name and regiment were pin- 
ned to his clothing by the hands of a comrade, after 
he died ; but although the search was close and long, 
they failed to discover his remains, and he was 
doubtless buried where he died, in the soldier's name- 
less grave. 

His sleep is as peaceful as though the sods of his 
native valley covered him, and spring sows as sweet 
flowers to deck the green trenches of Yirginia, as 
those which blossom in the quiet J^orthern grave- 
yards. 

The lovely summer weather seemed profaned by 
these deeds of death, but our convalescents enjoyed 
the long warm days, when no fatiguing marches or 
wearing duty rendered them conscious of the heat. 
They sat at tent doors dreaming of the days which 
were gone, striving hard to forget the terrible scenes 
through which they had so recently passed. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Some shrewd games were played upon ns at times, 
althougli I was slow to believe tliat men, wearing the 
Union blue, would descend to trickery to remain in 
hospital, and leave their comrades to brave the dan- 
gers at the front. 

One who had been a sailor, and once before in the 
service, was playing the crazy soldier. He had re- 
ceived the bounty for which he enlisted, and was 
anxious to obtain his second discharge. Sometimes 
when I talked to him he forgot his part, and seemed 
to understand as readily as any one, and we thought 
him trying to play upon us, although we could get no 
proof. He played so adroitly, however, that he was 
sent to Washington soon, and did obtain his discharge 
on the ground of insanity. 

One old soldier came in almost bent double with 
rheumatic pains, and seemed to suffer so much that I 
became enlisted in his behalf, and ministered daily to 
his wants. He lay for weeks with no change for the 
better, and every luxury which I could obtain I car- 
ried to his ward, and after a time begged permission 
of the doctor to have him come nearer to my tent, 
that I could do more for his comfort. 



THE OLD SOLDIER. 125 

ISTot many days after my wisli was complied -with, 
the examining surgeon came around and visited my 
old soldier, pronouncing him an impostor. I protest- 
ed against the decree — that inflammatory rheumatism 
often gave no outward sign, and that it could not be 
lie was playing us false. 

]^ot withstanding the arguments so conclusive to my- 
self, they sent him to ride the horse which had neither 
saddle, nor bridle, nor lines, with which to make the 
ride agreeable, and I was very miserable thinking of 
the hard penance which he was undergoing, and the 
disgrace to his manhood. 

But the cure was effectual ; he was erect as any 
man from that day, and always passed me with an 
averted face, and hurrying step. I was laughed at 
many a day for my expenditure of unavailing sym- 
pathy for the poor old rheumatic soldier. 

. I believe we had but few such men; death before 
the foe was not such a dreadful thing, that they could 
often disgrace the uniform which they wore by such 
mean shifts. 

In direct contrast to this case was an old white- 
headed man, who came down to us from the One 
Hundred and Seventy-^N^inth 'N. Y. Yolunteers, very ill 
from the exposure to hardships which in his old age 
he had no strength to bear up under. 

His name was Freer, from Slaterville, JST. Y. He' 
was the greatest example of patience and endurance 
with which I ever met, and he suffered extremely, 
never through it all uttering a groan, or word of 
complaint. Sometimes he thought himself at home, 



126 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

and would talk like a child wliich had been long 
homesick, and was again sitting under the old 
roof by his mother ; then again he realized his posi- 
tion, and wonld question me if I believed he would 
ever see home, and children, and the old wife 
again. 

I waited upon him most of the time, and tho 
tears would often come to my eyes when he would 
speak of the comfort which they should take when 
the cruel war was over. I "^..lew that when that 
time came, he would be a heap of mouldering dust, 
somewhere under the sods of the ground. 

A neighbor came all the long distance between 
him and his roof-tree, to be with him in the last, and 
take back, with his cold clay, the messages of 
love to his family. When he came in and took his 
hand, and he heard the sound of his familiar voice, 
new life seemed to flow into his lagging pulses — his 
eyes brightened, and the neighbor thought hope was 
not yet dead. He said it seemed to him an angel 
had come from heaven to take him home, and cluns: 
to him with the tenderness of a babe to its mother till 
he died. 

I remembered him sadly for many weeks, and the 
picture of the silver-haired old man is photographed 
in my gallery of brave men who died to save their 
country's honor. 

I had charge of one ward in which lay seven little 
boys, all under seventeen years of age, and all ill 
with fever. I was thoroughly at home there When 
I had washed their faces and combed their hair, and 



HOMESICK HEARTS. ^ 127 

made all necessary changes in their clothing, I felt 
like sitting beside them and rocking them to sleep. 

They were gathered from dilierent States, and 
had succumbed to the hardships of war. Delicate 
boys, with faces fair as a maiden's, with soft, curling 
hair, and eyes so bright, and truthful, and loving, I 
could not think of them as learning the hard lessons 
of battle, standing in the front ranks of soldiers, meet- 
ing without shrinking the deadly charges. 

I wished only for tlie power to nurse them into 
health, and send them to the mothers who loved 
them, till the smooth lip should grow downy, and 
the fair brow bronzed with the winds which man- 
hood's prime must face, and leave them there till 
years should mature them ready for the next great 
conflict. 

Oftimes I found them all in tears — poor homesick 
hearts pining for their native hills — longing to lay 
their heads in a mother's lap, and forget that they had 
ever thought of onslaught on to any greater game 
than the squirrels and blackbirds which frequented 
well-known haunts. 

Then I laughed them into spirits again — told 
them I should order baby-jumpers for the next offend- 
er, and left them a little brighter for the day. They 
called me " mother,'' and I drifted iuto it so naturally, 
that as one by one they convalesced, and were sent 
away, I felt like a mother weeping for the loss of 'her 
bright, beautiful boy — knowing into what hardening 
scenes they were passing, and trembling for the 
purity of the young brave hearts. 



128 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

For four weeks we liad a man in hospital, whose 
skeleton frame seemed ready to drop into the con- 
sumptive's grave without a warning. He was not 
recovering, and the doctor having charge of the 
ward would not send him away. I thought a change 
would help him if anything could, and one day learning 
that the Fifth Corps were to send some of their 
wounded to Washington that afternoon, I went to 
the steward and obtained a ticket for one of our men, 
ordering the nurses to take Brother Jonathan, as 
we called him, to the boat where the Fifth Corps left, 
and they did as ordered. 

He had been gone only a short time when the 
doctor came on his round of inspection, and missed 
the man — wanted to know if he had got well, or died, 
and as he persisted in his questioning, they were 
obliged to tell of my share in the transaction — that 
he had gone off on the transport. " By whose 
orders ? " he thundered sharply. 

" Aunt Becky's," was the reply, and he marched 
away, muttering, '' I'll give her the devil." 

So, with vengeance in his heart, he came directly 
to my tent, flushed with anger, and demanded to 
know what business I had to send men out of his 
ward, or indeed out of any ward in the Hospital. 

I made but little reply- — letting the storm rage 
till its fury was spent — then I said : 

" The man was not doino^ well — he did not belona* 
to you — pieces of men grew together to make Brother 
Jonathan, and his two eyes haunted me so, I could 
not help sending him off." 



DISHONEST NTJESE. 12D 

His eyes were like saucers — and, the dark rings 
about tliem were fearfal to behold. The doctor had 
nothing more to say, and left me victor of the field. 
I saw the man in Washington after that, looking 
quite well, and what was better, he had his discharge 
papers in his pocket. 

Some punishments occurred in camp which, per- 
haps, were deserved, although an unpleasant feeling 
always attached itself, in my mind, to the manner in 
which they were performed, so degrading to the cul- 
prit — attaching such a shameful thought to all asso- 
ciation with his comrades in after-life. 

I made a custard one morning for a ward of the 
sick, baking it in a four-quart basin, and giving it to 
a nurse to distribute. He gave them each a table- 
spoonful, ate some himself, and sold the remainder to 
the boys. Before it was known to me, I heard the 
fife and drum, and saw the culprit parading the camp 
with the board on his back, marked, " Thief." 

I knew the offence should be punished, or such 
things would often occur, but I could not look with 
anything like complaisance on such a degrading dis- 
play. I would rather the offender were put on bread 
and water alone, for a week, in solitary confinement ; 
or that a fine should be exacted, reaching into the 
next pay. Anything but the return to barbarism, of 
which the " Kogue's March " was the first downward 
step. 

One morning I went to my tent after some sauces 
for a patient, accompanied by one of the boys who 
was acting as nurse, and as we returned, foiind a letter 
6* 



130 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

lying on the ground, directed for the post-office, to the 
address of a married lady in Washington. Thinking 
no more of it, I gave it to the boy to drop into the 
^box. 1 was sure he did as directed, and the matter 
rested, till I heard the doctor say he had lost a letter 
which he was about to post. I went directly to him, 

saying, 1 had found one to the address of Mrs. , 

Washington, D. C, and he, coloring up to the roots 
of his hair, said it could not be his letter, for the lady 
whom he had addressed was unmarried. 

I mentioned the name of the nurse into whose 
care I had entrusted the letter for the office, and after 
a few hours learned, to my great indignation, that 
the boy had been put into the guard-house, because 
the doctor could not find his letter in the post. 

He had been " sweet " on this lady, and we all 
knew it, and I was determined that no one should 
suffer for his carelessness, even if the letter had been 
retained and read, which I did not believe, so, going 
to the head-surgeon, and stating the case in plain 
terms, the boy was ordered to his ward again, and the 
citizen doctor was the butt of many a laugh and joke 
at the surgeons' mess, for weeks. 

Such things tried my soul, and, one day, finding a 
boy, who was a favorite of mine, tied up by the 
thumbs to a tree, I took my knife from my pocket in 
an instant, and the cord was severed, and tlie boy 
sent quickly to liis ward, with the assurance that I 
would stand all blame, and if they wished to tie up 
any one else it might be me, but I hardly thought 
that would look very well under the circumstances. 



FATE OF DESERTERS. 131 

Nothing was ever said about it, however, and Aunt 
Beckj went unharmed. 

Deserters were shot on the heiglits above us, 
within sounding distance of my tent, and I shall 
never forget the horror in which I listened to the 
band playing the death-march, as they passed the 
curve in the road, and the doomed man went to the 
open grave which yawned for him. I could not help 
the silence in which I sat, till the music had died 
away, and the crash of musketry sounding in the sul- 
len distance assured me that the soul of the one time 
soldier had gone to eternity — ushered beyond the 
portals by the hands of those whose companion he had 
been. 

I could not reconcile the deed with my obdurate 
conscience — although I knew the penalty must be 
severe as death, to hold many in the ranks, yet so 
often and often men failed to know the true duty of 
a soldier, and the act of desertion seemed hardly 
enough to warrant his death at the hands of com- 
rades. 

It seemed a cruel thing to make men, who per- 
haps had been plajnuates in youth, the executioners 
of the stern military decree ; but T was a woman, — 
I did not know of these things, and although they 
tried my soul to the very depths, I was compelled to 
let them pass silently. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Dr. Wheeler was relieved in the summer, and 
Dr. McDonald put in charge of our hospital. He 
ordered barracks to be built and the cook-houses to 
be merged in one, with a low diet, and a full diet- 
kitchen. Our old cooks were ordered to the front 
and men from the drum-corps put on duty instead. 

The long row of low, unpainted buildings which 
sprang up would have suggested little poetry in the 
eyes of an imaginative person, but they were far 
better than tents, accommodating more patients, and, 
although destitute of architectural beauty, yet from 
the comfort afforded, looked well in our practical 
eyes. 

The cannon belching forth its red flames sent 
men to their long account, and prostrated others with 
its withering touch ; still the ceaseless work never 
paused, and our hands were not allowed to be folded 
idly in oar laps, waiting for the relay of wounded. 

"We had always one work which lay ready at our 
hands. I suppose fastidious ^women who know not 
the size or color of a louse, or the uneasy sense of 
their crawling presence, will be shocked to learn that 
we had them in plenty in our hospital, in our heads, 
and in our clothing. 



SIZE OF A LOUSE. 133 

It is an abomination in a civilized family to let 
children Tceej) lousy ; but sometimes tlie best of people 
will be obliged to make forays on the sudden attack 
of the pests, but in the army no Sanitary rules — noth 
ing, in fact — would rid us effectually of them, and 
we endm^ed them with the heroism of martyrdom. 

We endured them, waiting the advent of plenty 
of soap and water, fine-tooth combs and new clothing, 
consigning, in fancy, our old garments, the tenant- 
houses of so many families, to the merciless flames. 

In deep seam and hem the creatures bred and 
grew till they were as large as a kernel of wheat, 
ripe and full ; and any lady can imagine scores of 
such creatures crawling on her delicate flesh, while 
the shudder of horror creeps over her ; but if lover, 
or brother, or husband, or son, were in the ranks, she 
can rest assured that his clothing also was peopled by 
these army-followers ; and if she is in doubt, let her 
be convinced by his truthful statement. 

It was a recreation often indulged in by con- 
valescing patients — turning the garments inside out, 
and picking these creatures from the seam, to which 
they cling in desperation. Our tents were invaded ; 
roof, wall, and floor, were astir with them, and they 
were an enemy invincible to the foe — reinforcing the 
slaughtered ranks till their number was legion, and 
they were left victor of the well-fought field. 

Think not wg sunk down at first into this sudden 
defeat, or admitted their foraging with impunity ; 
many an onslought from a nervous hand to the 
shoulder ended the day of scores ; many a deter- 



134 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

mined raid with brush and comb laid them low by 
dozens ; but still they came ; still they swarmed our 
clothing, and beds, and tents, and we made a virtue 
of necessity, and endiiTed. 

I sometimes went to the front, to see the boys of 
our own regiment, taking up little articles — as stamps, 
paper, and things not easily obtained there at all 
times ; and one day, in the early September, I pro- 
posed to take a journey there, and hardly knew wliat 
conveyance I should find. 

Still, as my will was generally obeyed in some 
shape, I looked about me for some mode of travel, 
first engaging Steward Demming as driver. We 
found an old horse running about, which seemed to 
be ownerless, and an abandoned wagon, and proposed 
to take our journey with the aid of these, in faint 
remembrance of days of peace, when the wagon 
trundled over smooth roads, grass-lined, and wound 
in dusty quiet by the habitations of civilization. 

We were to go on .Monday — a day on which no 
thrifty housekeeper thinks of going on a visiting ex- 
pedition ; but our arts were the arts of war ; we 
heeded no washing days at the front. 

I had canned fruit and quite a collection of good 
things which I wished to take up to the boys, and 
we were astir early, eager as children for a holiday- 
ride. We tied up our broken wagon, and extem- 
porized a harness out of ropes and old pieces of 
leather, put together in any shape, to keep the horse 
from leaving the vehicle behind him in his swift 
flight. 



A SWEEPING DISCHAKGE. 135 

It was a very warm day, and the poor old horse felt 
the heat extremely, and the boys bade us " good-bye," 
with many a joke at our stylish equipage, scarcely 
expecting to see us return as we went. 

But we reached camp at last, and were greet- 
ed with loud demonstrations, which would have 
done credit to the arrival of a favorite major-general ; 
and indeed our whole journey had been a continued 
ovation. 

The boys hastened to the roadside, calling our 
horse along with hands held forth, suggesting to the 
half-famished brute the oats, the taste of which had 
almost gone out of his remembrance, so long ago 
were they taken into his stomach. 

But we were in time for dinner, and remained 
awhile, dispensing the good things to the boys, to 
whom hardtack had become second nature. At 
dusk we arrived back at the Hospital, being greeted 
like voyagers who had dared some great and perilous 
sea. 

The autumn winds grew chilly over City Point, 
and we were astonished one day by the sweeping 
discharge of all the women connected with the Ninth 
Corps, with the exception of my humble self, who 
was retained by what process this deponent knoweth 
not. 

"Why the others were discharged was quite a mys- 
tery for the time. Some said it was because the 
surgeon in charge disliked women in general, but as 
he doubtless had wife, mother, or sister, that could 
not be. 



136 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

But the women were sent away, and I, alone of 
my sex, was left in the Kinth Corp Hospital at City 
Point. 

The stewards and myself had onr own table, and 
the cooks prepared our meals, and it was strange 
again to me to see only men about, wearing the blue 
uniform, and to hear only their harsh voices in the 
camp. 

Still, when the desire for female society pressed 
strongly upon me, I visited the nurses of other corps, 
where hospitals were in close proximity to ours, but 
time did not lie heavily on my hands, allowing dis- 
contentment to spring up in my mind like weeds, 
overshadowing duty. 

The November rain fell alike on the camp and 
the beleaguered city of Petersburg, and the mud was 
ankle deep in the streets of our tented town. The 
stray bullet and cannon still did its fearful work, and 
sickness struck many a man down in the height of 
his ambition for glory. 

The leaves fell, and the grass withered. We had 
no birds to leave us on their bright wings. Never a 
bird did I see here or at Fredericksburg ; only a few 
crows, with black wings, ominous of death and disas- 
ter. The storm of iron hail had effectually driven 
them away, but not forever, we hoped. 

It would be sad if, amongst other horrors, the 
spring-time should bring no birds to build their iiests 
high in the tree-boughs, or low in the June meadows. 
But although there will be desolation enough, Nature 
will not withold her gifts to the South — the bright 



WINTER APPEO ACHING. 137 

land of the sun. The birds are there — the blue 
skies, the tender flowers, beaded with rain and dew ; 
and man maj do as he will, she will never fail to 
renovate when the iron heel is taken from the long 
pressed sod. 

When the screaming shell ceased to speed on its 
death errand, and the cannon to belch forth its lurid 
fires, these birds returned, singing in the bright morn- 
ings, onlj^ to take leave when the black frosts touch- 
ed with withering fingers all that was frail, and love- 
ly, and blooming. 

The trees were naked again, the hill-sides were 
bleak, and we shrunk from the bitter wind, thinking 
of another long winter in camp. The army was still 
amidst active operations, and the foe yet lifted its 
brazen head strong for the battle. The chill blasts 
crept into every forgotten aperture, and we drew our 
blankets closer over us in the dark lonesome mid- 
nights. 

Yes, it was settled we were again to pass a winter 
in the South — when the last spring opened I had 
said, " We will go home before cold weather assails us 
again," but yet we lingered, rebellion still rampant, 
and the horrid Moloch of War yet unappeased. 

The semblance of IN'orthern seasons dropped upon 
us in promising flakes, but the white robe was like 
ermine only for a few moments, the feet of nurse, and 
cook, and guard defiled its purity, and the sticky 
mud was left alone after the snow wept itself out in^ 
silent tears. 

Our ranks were constantly recruited, and the days 



138 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

wore on. Many a fanciful armament was fashioned 
by those deft lingers, when the owner lay thinking of 
the craft which he had followed, and strove to wear 
away the tedium of the monotonous life in the hos- 
pital. 

I had many a token given to me — images moulded 
of the clay which was upheaved when the great mine 
was sprung at Petersburg, — and of other earth made 
historic by the blood of the brave men spilt upon it 
— ^little ornaments carved of beef bones, polished till 
they were like ivory in whiteness and beauty. 

One chain was given me, each link composed of 
some carpenter's implement — axe, saw, file, every- 
thing in fact — ^but some covetous hand stole it away, 
and it lies a confiscated relic in some treasure trove. 
I wish it were in mine. 

In work like this, in reading and silent thought, 
the men passed the days, and the winter months 
wore oif with no great incidents to m^rk them in my 
calendar. 

February drew near, and came at last, with the 
promise of a speedy going. As I look over the diary 
kept at that time, and remember the little white 
sheltering-tent under whose brooding it was written, 
I think the record of the few weeks inscribed with- 
in it will tell best what feelings urged us, and how 
we longed for home and home comforts to be given 
to all that sick and suffering throng. 



CHAPTER XX. 

DIARY. 

I Saturdai/, February 4:y 1S&5. 

To-DAT being so bright and beautiful, yet so 
muddy, that as I go from tent to tent 1 lodge in the 
mire at times, I almost wish myself at home, where I 
, should not be obliged to go out — still I am content, 
I and happy to be doing some good to these poor fel- 
• lows, who have neither wife, mother, or sister near 
I them to listen to plans for the fature, or to the history 
I of the past. 

I am alone of women in the J^inth Corps, yet I 
was never treated with more consideration than by 
these rough soldiers, with bronzed and scarred faces, 
telling that a hero has fought and bled for his coun- 
try. A year and a half has gone by, and I have not 
I seen my girls. When I think of them, and of home, 
how I long for the wings of a bird that I might fly 
away and be near them, to shelter and comfort with 
a mother's love. 

Shall 1 write it ? O Journal, bear witness to the 

weakness of women, I wish the war was over, and I 

could sleep upon a bed of feathers, and sit within the 

arms of a cushioned rocking-chair ! 

' How the cunning things of this earth entangle the 



140 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

heart, and how hard it is to break away from such 
habits of civilization. I have often thought it was a 
mistake that nature made me so small and weak, with 
all a man's ardor and enthusiasm pent up in my heart, 
and this wild fancy which would soar so far away, 
and beyond my poor strength. 

I would do so much that this weak hand is 
impotent to work out, that I seem useless, either to 
myself or to others. Yet I know in some way it is 
all right, and I will make no more complaint — con- 
tent to bear my little load in patience, and when I 
come to lay it down, thank God it was no heavier. 

There has been no death in the ]^inth Corps for 
three weeks, and only one man from the One Hun- 
dred and Ninth Regiment ill, and he in no immediate 
danger. 

Sunday^ February 5. 

This morning is wild and windy, with close clouds 
over the sky, and soul and body are in sympathy with 
the inclement weather. Yesterday was so sunny and 
mild, and to-day the cold rain winds are moaning, 
and borne upward on their wailing the soul of one of 
our men has gone. 

John Bush, of the One Hundred and Eighty-sixth 
N. Y., died this morning, and he will be buried while 
no tears fall on his pale dead face, when for the last 
time the light of day falls upon it. 

Men die here, and are forgotten, but there^ friends 
mourn over the pallid fjrm, and lay it reverently in 
the church-yard, and go to the desolate home to mourn 



TEMPERED JOY. 141 

for the loved who went out of its shelter, never more 
to return. 

Life here is like a leaf from the tree, borne down 
by the passing gale, and amidst all the summer's 
greenery no one can tell that it is gone. By and by 
when the sad news reaches those who have prayed for 
him, and felt his absence from home, then will be 
shed tears of regret over his memory, while they think 
with heart-pangs of the returning veterans of war, 
amongst which he will not be marching. 

It is such a blessed thing that time can heal such 
grief — that the gentle flowers of remembrance can by 
and by spring up on their graves, and though never 
forgotten, yet the keen pain is soothed — the bitterness 
is washed away, and again life holds out its tempting 
cup for our eager lips, and we quaff and are at rest, 
waiting the meeting beyond the river. 

I had a pleasant evening after an unpleasant day, 
and then dreamed away with the night my weariness 
of heart. 

Monday^ February 6. 

I feel quite like myself this morning ; the cold air 
seems to brace me, although I long for the sunny days 
to come with warm winds and balmy skies, and varied 
flowers strewing the grass. The question of peace 
seems to be the one absorbing theme. How I hope 
something may grow out of it to fill the land with 

joy- 
When I think of the dear ones out of so many 

lonely homes which want their presence, I can im- 



142 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

agine wliat a tbrill of joy will run into every pulse at 
the coming of the blissful time when the war is ended 
and the army melts away into the bosom of families, 
and communities. 

Then hands which now wield the death weapon 
will be turned to the arts of husbandry again, and 
no more dreadful tidings of death and carnage be 
borne on the net- work of wires. 

But, with all the joy, how many will still be deso- 
late — how many homes will never echo to the sound 
of returning feet, but forever keep sacred the memory 
of some brave one who died and found a grave in the 
sunny South. 

Some of our men leave to day on the transport 
State of Maine, for the General Hospital, at Wash- 
ington. I wish a greater number were going, where 
they could have more comforts than we can provide 
for them. 

I had my favorite dish of pigs' feet for dinner, 
and as they used to tell us each part strengthened a 
part, I wondered if my pigs' feet would all centre 
their strength in one foot. 

To-day is an anniversary. How well I remember, 
just fifteen years ago, how bright everything looked 
to me — with Youth and Hope leading me beyond the 
rugged paths of common existence, to a clearer and 
higher atmosphere than pervades this world of sin. 

How changes came to me — altering the web of 
life-weaving on the groundwork which should have 
held roses, and mosses, and trailing leaves, only a 
dark pattern, fit for a funeral pall. 



life's brief dream. 143 

Where are the thonglits which should have budded 
into rich blossoms of love — where are the creeping 
mosses of sweet remembrance ? Alas, alas ! Here I 
sit in womanhood's prime, in my coarse dress, with 
hands roughened by hard toil — a Hospital Nurse, — 
and my heart is buried in the past. 

The evenings are long as I sit alone — ^hearkening 
to the wind, or the constant nibbling of the mice, 
which keep me in a continual flutter. I think of all 
which has gone away, and wonder if the future holds 
anything bright in store for me. Life seems a dream — 
my heart seems to sleep in an enchanted house, 
haunted by many ghosts. 

Well, it is only a little while. How many lamps 
Zhave seen go out— and mine may disappear as sud- 
denly. I will try to be content in doing the work 
which my hands find here, and earn the commenda- 
tion of the Master when we shall go up at that great 
day, bearing our sheaves with us. 

Those mice — Oh, those nibbling mice — 1 think I 
will fix them this night, so that sleep may not be 
scared away from my pillow. 

February 'T. 

Another gloomy day without, — no sun, — no rain, — 
no wind, — only cold, dull dampness, which chills to 
the marrow of one's bones, and renders a warm fire a 
positive necessity. Within my cloth house the hor- 
ror of a murder lies red and glaring. Only think of 
a little life going out in Aunt Becky's tent, but I 
cannot endure the patter-patter of tliose. little feet. 



144 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

and tlie incessant nibbling wliicb sends me wild witli 
its monotonous tones. 

I am not alone, two soldiers are making free with 
tbeir onions and johnny-cake here, and enjoying 
themselves hugely in their freedom from restraint. I 
cannot check them when I know how near they may 
be to the river's brink down which so many have 
plunged with no warning cry. 

The poor wounded are now being brought in from 
the Fifth Corps — the loss is said to be heavy — and 
yet they call it " victory." Oh ! this cruel, cruel war, 
when will it end, and these men, so precious to some- 
body's heart, cease to be brought here with bleeding 
wounds, maimed, helpless — dying ? 

God, let thy vengeance fall speedily on those at 
whose door this carnage may be laid — let the rope 
and the bullet do their work, till the land shall be rid 
of the evil which wrought this sin, and our brave, 
noble soldiers be set free. 

The greed for ambition and gain has reached this 
awful climax. Do not those who ventured no risk in 
the chaos never shrink back from the yawning hell 
right at their feet ? Death, in a speedy form, would 
seem a punishment too light for them to bear, rather 
I would doom them to long-lingering decay, — de- 
prived of human society, the four bare walls of an 
iron cell should enclose them, and not even a glimpse 
of Heaven's own blue should drift before their vision, 
for have they not desecrated its semblance in the 
glorious old flag which floats over our loyal country ? 

North or South — friend or foe, I care not on 



EEPOSE WEI.COMED. 145 

whom the curse may fall, if it crushes out this terrible 
war under which we groan, and our young men bleed 
and die. 

The gloomy day is gone, and a pleasant evening, 
enlivened by two calls, ends the scene, and I am 
ready for sleep to charm me away to the land of 
dreams, where I may hope to meet those long loved, 
and long lost. 



CHAPTER XXL 

February 8. 

I HAYE just come in from a visit to the poor 
wounded men. O how they suffer, yet few groans or 
cries issue from their lips, as they endure amputation, 
and dressing of wounds — only the close shutting of the 
mouth, and the contortion of a muscle, shows how 
keen is the pain which brings the beaded sweat to 
their foreheads. 

Oftimes the amputated limb seems to lie distorted 
in the great festering heap, and they beg that it may 
be laid straight. Strange this sympathy which the 
member gone seems to have with the frame-work left. 
How many have told me that fingers or toes were 
cramped, and even thought if the limb which was 
gone could be placed aright in the grave, with its mu- 
tilated companions, the uneasy feeling would vanish 
at once. 

It is very muddy, and the wind blows a perfect 
gale, and although the sun shines overhead, I feel a 
gloom like night stealing over me. I hear the groans 
of the wounded, and the sound fires me with ten 
thousand feelings which I cannot express — so many 
perish, and the end still in the far distance. 



OLD FACES. 147 

February 9. 

Still the wounded come in, and little T can do to 
mitigate their sufferings — so many mere boys, it makes 
my heart ache for the mothers, whose whole souls 
yearn over the brave little fellows, who could not re- 
main at home when the old flag was endangered. I 
look at them and think, what if they were my 
children, how I would bless any one who gave them 
even a kind word, and I try to cheer them up, telling 
them the Confederacy must give way with such help 
as they have given our army, and that they do not 
suffer in vain. 

Some of my old patients come back almost every 
day. I watch for the familiar faces, whose owners I 
nursed at Fredericksburg, or "White House Land- 
ing, and they recognize me in my scant bedtick dress, 
but perhaps appreciate what I am able to do for 
them, as well as if I passed hours in dressing for the 
Wards. 

Well, it seems heartless for me to see women 
caring for curls and colors, when so many need a 
brave hand which will not shrink from a dirty, 
bloody wound, waiting to be dressed. I cannot think 
of such things now — it is no time, or place. I am a 
common woman, and I come to nurse the common 
soldier, whose sixteen dollars a month is the exceed- 
ing reward of hardships almost unendurable — nurs- 
ing and burial thrown in if he dies, and if he lives, a 
wreck, with only the vital trunk intact, eight dollars 
a month for the term of his natural existence. 

I don't say it is not liberal, but I do say, when 



148 , THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

men have almost died — nay, worse tlian died, for the 
country — that country should, like a grateful mother, 
gather up her children in her loving arms, protect 
them and theirs, with her means and her strength, and 
so far as outward things will go, soften the pathway 
all through life. She cannot do too much, alas ! I 
fear she will do too little. 

My sympathies all centre in the soldiers who wear 
the common blue of the ranks — whose columns have 
been swept down like grain before the reaper, whose 
bones lie many deep under the battle-sods — whose 
blood has moistened the roots of countless grasses, 
and dyed many a stream with its muddy flow. 
. Those who have money and position will receive 
all which these can bring — it is smaller matter when 
a soldier, in the coarse uniform, lies low — only the 
few ripples which widen out to the circle of home, 
and intimate friends, are seen, and the dream is past. 

The prospect is, that this spring's campaign will 
be the hardest of the war — how I shudder at the 
thought of so many brave fellows rushing into the 
jaws of death, and perishing on the instant. Some- 
thing is wrong somewhere. God never made man in 
his image to be thus mutilated and murdered by the 
hand of his brothers. His mighty curse rests on the 
slayer's head, and shall those who wrought this kill- 
ing go unscathed ? 

The giant intellect works at the great problem till 
it solves a way to take life by the hundreds, and iron 
missiles are moulded with poison in their hearts, to 
corrode and steal away the life which they got not 



COMMON SOLDIERS. 149 

oiitriglit. The man under whose generalship thous- 
ands are lost to home and friends is the feted hero of 
the hour. 

When I think how each one in dying leaves such 
desolation in some hearts, and then multiply this by 
the lowly sodded trenches of Yirginia, God knows 
how my soul agonizes over a land clad in deepest 



February 11, 

How kind the soldiers are to me. I appreciate 
each little act of thoughtfulness, which assures me 
that I am remembered, and have done some good 
in coming so far from home into the reach of so 
much sickness and death. I am not working hard 
now. The time may soon come when my hands 
shall be full to overflowing with work. O what 
work — what work ! Ye who sew, and knit, and toil 
over the heated stoves, while those you love are away 
fighting the hydra-headed monster of Secession, ye 
little know how these hands toil at the bruised and 
bleeding wounds, when fresh " victory " sends its re- 
cruits into our Hospital. 

I could not be happy away from here while the 
war lasts, still I look forward with longing to a time 
when a home and home comforts will usurp this 
strange life, solitary from my sex, yet as courteously 
treated as though I were the highest lady in the land. 

'What is it which inspires even the lowliest soldier 
in the ranks ? JS'ever but once have I been ad- 
dressed in terms unbecoming to a soldier. Certainly 



150 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

I have met rebuffs from steamboat captains, and pay- 
masters, and that kind of fisb, but from the ranks of 
our Ninth Corps, and from every soldier in the Union 
Army, with that one exception, I have received all, 
and more consideration than was due me. 

Sunday Morning, February 12. 

The wind rages without like a wild beast howling 
for its prey. It blows my stove-pipe down, and twice 
I have had to replace it. I am feeling weak and 
worn this morning, and I crept back to bed after 
arising, feeling altogether too miserable to keep my 
feet. 

I think I am experiencing the effect of a fall which 
I had not long ago, but it was all in the line of duty ; 
I must keep a little quiet now, while I am not so 
much needed, and then by and by — 

Well, I have not been alone, or quiet much to- 
day, the evening has been pleasant, but it has gone, 
and I go — to bed. 

February 13. 

Again a morning of wind, and air filled with 
bitter cold ; I passed a sleepless night, and ray heart 
lies sad, and heavy in my bosom. 

Can I put on smiles, and cheat myself into cheer- 
fulness, even as I cheat these sick men pining for 
home ? I think, as I dress myself, and tidy up my 
tent, how quickly the years will go away, and no one 
remember that I ever lived. I shall die, be buried, 
and forgotten. My children while they live, will 



SAD AT HEART. 151 

cherisli mj memory, but it is only one generation, and 
no one will exist who ever looked npon my face. 

But wliy art thou disquieted, O my soul ! So is 
the life of the human kind — a day of sunshine — a 
week of storms — a cup of bitter, with only a drop of 
sweet,— and yet some lives seem beautiful from the 
beginning to the end. Some hearts seem to throb 
linhaunted by trouble, and the years glide on. I have 
reared many a castle in the air, and stood breathless 
while they tumbled down to earth, bringing my fond- 
est hopes to the mire and clay. 

" Man's inhumanity to man makes countless mil- 
lions mourn," and the crushing sense of poverty loads 
down many a soul which might aspire to the very 
sun. 

I think sometimes, when this is over, if I could 
only take my children away from the world's influ- 
ance, and live and die in some lodge in the vast wil- 
derness, I would be content; but that would fore- 
stall God's purpose — the prayer should not be, Lead 
us not into temptation, but, O Lord, keep us ihrougli 
temptation. 

I have just answered a letter, which, if not too 
late, will take me when this is over into new scenes 
of love. I have accepted the Matronship of the 
Asylum for Orphans at Washington, and if that is 
my sphere henceforth, I will try to be happy. 

February 14. 

Still sad and gloomy, and yet denied the privilege 
of giving vent to my feelings. I feel the need of 



152 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

female society now — these rough men, kind as they 
are, cannot sympathize with a woman, even though 
she pours out her heart at their feet. I look to a time 
when peace will come, and wonder if I can then for- 
get the sufferings which I have witnessed day after 
day, when naught but misery and wounds thronged 
our camps. 



( 



CHAPTER XXIL 

February 15. 

A BEAUTrFiJL day out in tlie free sunshine ; within 
my cloth house the shadows are still lying, but we 
have many sick ones now, and I try to pass the most 
of my time with them, to avoid the loneliness of my 
tent. 

I had a call from a bride to-day, Mrs. Major Eden 
— how happy she seemed, and how proud in the love 
of her excellent husband. Well, that joy comes once 
to the most of human hearts, but alas ! how soon the 
tenderness of the lover melts away into the indiffer- 
ence of the husband, and then — God help the young 
heart pining for sympathy, and guard it that she falls 
not into temptation. 

If men only knew how they hurt their own cause 
by this neglect and coldness, and how much brighter 
the world would be for them, if they cherished and 
sympathized with a wife as they ought, much of the 
misery of the household would be done away. 

But, wrapped in selfishness, many men draw 
themselves into an impenetrable shell, and the world 
goes on with hearts growing sadder and sadder every 
hour. 



154 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

The day and evemog have gone — dragged heavily 
away with the drift-wood of the past, and 1 go to 
bed to forget life if I can, and if not forgetting it, 
to dream of those whom I would fain see soon. 

February 16. 

Bright again, and two days of sunshine have 
worked their little wonder in my heart. I am think- 
ing with pleasant anticipations of home, and yet the 
time may be afar off, for while health and strength 
last I shall not leave the army. 

I wonder if any one is to blame for my being a 
woman, and not having a sister ? I think my heart 
should have had a broader breast to beat in, because 
it feels cramped and confined as it is, and I am eager 
to do something which will tell amongst my fellow- 
creatures, and my slender woman's frame still holds 
me in check. 

If I only had a sister, if not a sister by blood, 
why not a sister in the intimate companionship of 
kindred souls? There has been heavy cannonading 
to-day on the left, but we have not yet learned to 
what it is tending — this much I feel, as I shudder 
with my woman's nerves, somebody is maimed, and 
dying on that trampled space in front of Petersburg. 

February 17. 

Yery lovely to-day, and I am still feeling better. 
•Our sick are doing well, and a large number have 
been sent to Washington, on the transport State of 
Maine — only the wounded are left. My brother has 



SICK OF SOLDIERING. 155 

just gone from here ; — lie came down from the front, 
and reports all quiet there to-daj. I begin to feel 
anxious to have a letter, it seems so, long since I heard 
from those dear ones — why do they wait thus? K 
they knew at home how eager our homesick hearts 
were for the little messengers of love and friendship 
fluttering down to us on thin white wings, recording 
every item of change in and about the one dear spot, 
they would not count it lost, — the time spent in giving 
theni to us poor waifs, thrown out into the country 
of a hostile people. 

February 18. 

The sunshine forgot to open its eyes this morning, 
and the cold wind moaned for it, and 1 sit shivering 
over my iire scarcely able to keep myself warm, and 
the stove-pipe in position. Well, the time comes to 
all of us when we are sick of soldiering, and wish we 
were out of the service, then, ashamed of the seemingly 
coward thought, they grow eager to rush into the 
fray, and wipe out the stain of seeming dishonor. 

February 19. 

Many rumors are floating about, but no reports 
on which we can rely — still Hope holds aloft her 
streaming banner, and our hearts throb in unison 
with the great swell of her soul-stirring music, ^¥ill 
peace come? God grant it may come soon. 

Some are very ill to-day, with typhoid fever and 
diphtheria. I have just com.e in from the tents, and 
find them doing as well as can be expected. They 



156 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

have ornamented for the advent of the good news, 
but those extra fixings will hardly crush out the re- 
bellion. I wish they might. I have been over to the 
Second Corps to do some talking, which only we war 
nurses know how to do rightly. 

February 20. 

Oh ! the beautiful spring day, with birds singing, 
and the air filled with the yellow radiance, how it 
reminds me of long gone days, in years away back 
down the hill of life. There is a peculiar sadness, 
yet a half-glad feeling mixed strangely therein, which 
my poor philosophy is puzzled to explain. 

The soldiers are enjoying this — sitting by the 
sunny side of their tents, looking bright as a May 
day when no moving is going on. I feel languishing 
and weak, while I ought to feel bright and strong. 

February 21. 

My little box -stove and poor wood make me feel 
cross to-day, when so many are waiting for a bit of 
cooking from my hands. 

I think longingly of the great Stewart's, which 
stand with reservoirs filled with water, and tin attach- 
ments, where the toast would keep so nicely warmed, 
and wish I had Aladdin's lamp, or ring ; I would send 
the good spirits after one out of somebody's kitchen, 
who was able to get a new one, and wouldn't there 
be a stir in the N^orthern streets, as the clatter arose 
high over the house tops. 

Oh ! such salt messes as those cooks prepare in that 



NEAREE HOME. 167 

low-diet kitchen — low diet, indeed — codfisTi, which 
seems to have slipped, without preparation, into the 
dishes from the briny barrel — a starving man would 
have hard work to eat some of that food, and how 
would one expect sick men to recover their appetites 
under such a regimen ? 

Still, a woman is not supposed to know, and these 
Lords of Creation, first in everything, deem them- 
selves also first in the mysteries of cooking, when a 
corn mush^ for the hogs, or a kettle of Irish potatoes, 
fresh from the hill, was perhaps the extent of practice 
which they had previous to the advent of secession. 
Secession ! thou hast developed many a trait which 
dormant lay ! — thou hast raised many a talent which 
lay buried deep — art thou to be cursed or blessed? 
Oh, shapeless one ! 

February 22. 

Now for the boat again ; those who are to go, are 
as pleased to go as any child with a long-promised 
visit to a place filled with rare and curious things. I 
am glad to see them go, for they are nearer home — 
the spot for which we yearn with wistful eyes turned 
hitherward, and my homesick heart beats pulse to 
pulse with their own. 

There is heavy cannonading again to-day, but I 
hardly think Petersburg has yet fallen ; delay — de- 
feat ! Oh ! when will it be ended, and the city lie 
under the flutter of the old flag ? 



158 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

February 23. 

Spring is again affriglited, and the air blows raw 
and chilly, nearly taking my tent over, and I am 
fearful of danger if I venture without its walls. 

I have just had some calls, which have shortened 
the time a little, and a letter over which I have 
puzzled some little time to divine the author's mean- 
ing. The nights are freezing. I have never been so 
exposed before, and consequently never suffered so 
much from cold as this winter. Feather beds, downy 
pillows, easy cushioned chairs, when will you wel- 
come this ease-loving woman to your softness ! 

February 24. 

I slept cold all night, and thought of the warm 
chambers and bedrooms leading from the great old- 
fashioned kitchens, and of the glow of comfort which 
crept all througli them from the unstinted supply of 
logs at the farmer's door. My feet were like clods, 
but I set myself resolutely upon tliem, and made the 
gruel which I have not failed to do every day since 
last June. 

Many of our men have bad throats, and I must 
have contracted the disease hj sympathy, for mine is 
so sore I can scarcely swallow. Still I feel it my 
duty to go out, and think nothing serious will result 
from it. 

February 25. 

The sun shines very pleasantly , to-day, and I am 
myself again, and the men are so comfortable, I liave 



MKS. GEUNDY. 159 

but little to do tliis morning, only to think liow lone- 
some I am in this great concom-se of men, and wonder 
how I should enjoy a right old-fashioned tea-party 
with Mrs. Grundy as host, and the lesser lights of 
village scandal revolving as satellites around her, in 
unbounded innocence of heart. 

I should like to listen to the shortcomings of the 
prim dames, who had fallen from their high estate, 
and hear the virtuous indignation which was express- 
ed at the wrong doing — it would revive my faith in 
the old creed that " Satan finds some mischief still for 
idle hands to do," and that human nature was a frail 
plant, likely to wither under the rude blasts of tempt- 
ation. 

February 26. 

My brother has just come in from the regiment, 
all ready to go home on a furlough. I am so home- 
sick, I could cry if it would do any good, but it 
would only make him feel unpleasantly, and I hope to 
be on the same road and journey not many months 
hence. Then, children, comforts, quiet, and content, 
I will welcome you all into my dwelling. I am glad 
he can go if I cannot ; he at least can tell me how 
things look there, when he returns, and till then I can 
live on the anticipation. 

February 27. 

May at the II^Torth is not more beautiful than this 
morning. The boat has just gone with its load of sick 
men, and the day was so lovely 1 could not vv^ithstand 



160 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

the temptation to ramble, and so went over into tlie 
Second Corps, and had a lively chat with Miss Yance 
and Miss Blackman. 

The great guns keep up the heavy cannonading, 
but hope deferred maheth the heart sick, and Lee's 
strength holds its own with Grant's pertinacity. 

February 28. 

The last day of winter in the calendar. I felt so 
ambitious this morning I wished to wash — to do some 
real hard labor, and I knew I should sleep better to- 
night if I could do it. 

Farewell, old Winter, stern, icicled fellow; you 
were not very welcome to me, yet I wonder what will 
happen to this soul and body before yon bring your 
chilly winds again to our planet. Welcome, sweet 
Spring — joyous season of tender green and brightest- 
tinted flowers — I see your fluttering robes in the days 
just coming; your head droops low, and you drop 
tears for the cold old winter, which to-night creeps 
off to the !North, and leaves you to contend with some 
bitter winds which, sad truants, forgot to folloAV their 
lord. 

March 1. 

E"ow for a long month when coy spring coquettes 
with earth, and rains tears and smiles, sweet smiles, 
then frowns, and averts her head, and the long thirty- 
one days will drag. We are so eager to see the 
ground covered again with the embroidery which is 
woven by the toilers in air, and sun, and earth, and 
water. 



WELCOME PAYMASTER. 161 

To-day the rain-drops fall silently and persistently 
— no wind di'ives it against tlie walls of my cloth 
house, but the constant patter, patter soothes me be- 
yond measure, when some days it would drive me 
wild. When my mood is right, I like a calm, stead}^ 
rain like this ; but when gusty winds drive it into 
frozen sleet, and my stove-pipe falls off, and it burns 
and blackens me in efforts to replace it, I can safely 
say it is not entirely agreeable to the deponent. 

March 2. 

The rain continues, and I could not get about 
much, the mud was so deep and sticky. My tent 
leaks under the drenching, and I am not very comfort- 
able, as I sit tucked up in my seat, feeling the chilly 
March air an unwelcome invader to-night. We have 
quite a large number of sick now — two from my own 
regiment, not in danger however. 

The paymaster has made his welcome appearance, 
and the little strips of green paper were eagerly gath- 
ered up, and some changed hands rapidly. It is the 
staff of life as well as the bread, and nowhere better 
appreciated, when gone, than in the ranks of the 
Yolunteer Army. 

March 3. 

Still the clouds pour down their showers, yet I 
have waded out to see the sick, and have found some 
very low. How I wish they could be sent home, to 
be cared for by the hands of those who love them. 

Miss Blackman. from the Second Corps, has been 



162 THE NESfTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

here to see me, and we liad a woman's long talk about 
everything in general and nothing in particular. 

Since morning the clouds have cleared away, and 
the sun has deigned to look upon our drenched camp, 
with its yellow light. Seven of the One Hundred and 
I^inth boys on their way home, have been in to see 
me to-day. I wish I were a soldier that I might 
avail myself of a furlough ; but then I don't think I 
should particularly like being shut up on my return 
in the " Bull Pen," for fear I might run away again. 

A disgrace to the service ; it ought to be riddled, 
and tlie material burned, a funeral pyre for the count- 
less host of swarming lice which devour the inmates 
alive. If Government sanctions the keeping open of 
that pen, where deserters, prisoners, convicts, and 
sick men returned from furlough, are put in together, 
then Government ought to be ashamed of itself, and 
wipe it out with all speed. 

They must have a fine opinion of the courage and 
honor of enlisted men, when they throw them into 
that unclean, lousy place to harden towards their 
keepers. Were I a man, and a soldier, and on return 
from a furlough, with no crime for which I was held 
responsible, put into that den, I would shoot some- 
body when I got out — that I know. I icould be 
avenged in some way. Men who volunteered for the 
salvation of their country to be treated thus like 
cattle, and worse than cattle ! 



CHAPTER XXIIl. 

March 4, 

How tlie little sunsliine of yesterday afternoon 
cheated ns ! This morning the drizzle, drizzle, drizzle 
of the March rains make me nervous, particularly 
when I have many patients to visit to-day. The 
past night seemed long enough for two, and the mice 
got so daring, creeping over me, that I could not 
shut my eyes for fear of losing the end of my nose ; 
and you know, friendly Journal, I haven't any to 
spare. 

The wind blows hard, and in the midnight the 
clatter of the tents was almost fearful. 

My stove-pipe rocks to and fro, and I cannot cook, 
so I sit here idly scratching down with my pen. 
After all, life is about the same mixture all the world 
through ; the same proportion of trouble, of joy, of 
care, of light and darkness is entwined ; and perhaps 
I am as happy as any one. I like to rear great air- 
castles ; by the time they tumble down, as tumble 
down they always do, I am prepared for it, and have 
removed my valuables to a place of safety, so the 
wreck is nothing but moonshine after all ; and, as 
the materials are always at hand, costing nothing, I 



164 THE NINTH COKPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

can build another, in a brief space of time, grander 
than the iirst. 

I hope some time to see one built up which will 
last as long as life — a fabric large enough to hold 
contentment, and peace, and happiness ; high enough 
to hold God's sunshine, and low enough to look with 
charity unto all my fellow-creatures. I wonder if 
the foundations are being laid now, and what form 
the structure will bear. 

I have had a sore throat all day, with a hard cold, 
and the rain has kept me within my tent ; but now 
I must go, for they have sent for me to make beef-tea 
and gruel for five men who need it very bad. 

Well, my little boxstove carried me through, 
although the wind did blow, and I feel bettei^'for the 
exertion ; I think the men do also. Off to bed after 
a long day and reading a letter from Mrs. Youngs. 

March 6. 

A beautiful Sabbath morning ; but my cold has 
the best of me to-day, and if it were not so lonely 
I would not venture out. The mail-boat has just 
arrived, and my heart is in a flutter of hope, waiting 
for the letter from home. 

Oh ! waiting for the letter from home, how many 
waited and went into the fierce battle waiting, and 
fell foremost before the foe; and when they threw 
off the full soldier's mail, there were the little missives 
for which his heart had waited, and other eyes than 
his should read those words of love and cheer. How 
strange it must have seemed to them at home to write 



TIRED — TIKED — TIEED. 165 

letters wliich their anxious souls knew might be too 
late for the dear ejes ; that, even while they were 
being penned, the soldier's comrades might be heap- 
ing the sod over the cold bosom, on, which the death- 
wound lay gaping. 

I read and write, and then try to sleep, but those 
mice — in desperation I take my sword, (O yes, I have 
a sword ; I may some time tell when I got it — not 
now,) and, with strong intent to kill, I rush upon the 
nimble-footed little torments, but I only elicit a faint 
squeal, and they hide beyond my reach, ready for a 
foray on me again when I get quiet. 

I am tired of noise ; tired of the tongues which 
talk, talk, talk at the supper-table ; tired of having my 
house invaded at all hours of the day and evening ; 
tired of the Virginia mud ; tired of trying to be 
happy, and tired of everything. I see the same old 
camp — the tents, the barracks ; the same figures clad 
in eyerlasting blue. Sometimes it is a relief to see a 
new face peeping from under the .regulation-cap ; 
but I wish Gen. Lee would surrender, and I could go 
home and get over being tired. 

March 6. 

A summery day, with air, and sun, and wind 
cheating us till we seem to be within another clime. 
I thought 1 would wash and iron to-day, it being 
Monday ; and I have returned to my tent, tired and 
hungry, but the kind of tired which a sound sleep 
rests, and the hunger which a bountiful dinner, sup- 
plied by our cooks, entirely appeased. 



166 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

I found some of tlie officers who were here wound- 
ed last summer, and had calls from two of them ; so 
the day has passed qnicklj away, and I an^ ready for 
sleep. 

March T. 

Again like a summer day. How I enjoy the mere^ 
pleasm'e of living and breathing on such days of 
sunshine, when the brightness is over all, and through 
all, and in all ! 

But life is ebbing out with one poor fellow to-day. 
Oh ! so young to die ! but he is calm and manlike 
under his suffering. All remains quiet at the front. 
I dread the bursting forth of the great volcano wliich 
will soon upheave the ground around Petersburg, and 
then to us will come wounds, death, heart-aches, and 
after all, and beyond all agony, perhaps, peace. 

March 8. 

The rain pours down in floods, and it is lonely in 
my dark tent, but I got one ray of light in the shape 
of a letter from Mrs. Youngs, my dearest friend in 
Maryland, and it cheered my lieart wonderfully to 
hear from her. I have a dog in my tent to keep the 
mice away, and I think he will have hard work to 
do his duty. I shall have to tie him up to-night to 
keep him. 

March 9. 

After a rainy night the morning has dawned 
beautifully. The dog in his endeavors to catcli the 
mice, and the mice in their efforts to get beyond his 



STILL EAINING. 167 

reach, togetlier, kept me awake nearly all niglit, I 
am so tired of seeing only men, that I could go to 
the other, extreme and become a nun with a good 
heart. 

They invade my tent when I wish its privacy ; 
and no doubt these lords of creation think nothing in 
the world is so agreeable to me as their delightful 
company. 

Private Dodge, who was on his way home, called 
to see me, and I was glad to receive him. I have 
had a letter from inj heart-sister — one who bears a 
closer relation to me than most sisters by blood. 
How I long to see her ; I have so much to say which 
I can say to no one else. 

It is still raining in dreary monotony, and the 
tattoo sounds, and I am off once more to bed. Oh 
this going to bed, and this getting up in the morning, 
to go over the same — same work ! Why couldn't we 
finish up this going to bed, and getting up, as 'New 
England housekeepers do their house-cleaning — twice 
a year. 

March 10. 

Getting up this morning I found my wood wet, 
and had an unpleasant task to kindle my fire. I am 
not feeling well, but I must go out to those who feel 
worse than I. They seem, all but one, in a fair way 
to recover. He is failing slowly, but fatally. 

"We have very changeable weather — now rain, 
now sun, and then hours when it does neither, and 
those are worse than all. 

Another man shot for desertion within sound of 



168 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

our camp. How can they do that dreadful, delibe- 
rate murder — for I can call it notliin<^ else — when the 
defenceless man stands by his coffin on the brink of 
his open grave, and the hands of his comrades send 
to his bosom the deadly messengers ! It is not right 
to take life away; reason, instinct, conscience, all rebel 
against the dreadful sin ; and it is a foul black one. 

Miss Blackman was in, and made me a good long 
visit. She is such an estimable young woman, every 
one admires and respects her. I think something less 
than a " Saratoga " would hold her wardrobe as well 
as my own. She has no fear of spoiling white hands, 
nor shrinks from dirty uniforms, as the poor fellows 
come in, suffering from the battle-field. 

I used once to think my cloth house was pleasant ; 
but now it seems so close and lonely, I cannot bear 
the confinement ; and I long and long, and not in 
vain, I hope, for the end to come, and to get under a 
roof which does not let the water on to my bed, nor 
put out my fire when I most need it. 

March 11. 

The rain has cleared away, but it is cold, and the 
wind is bitter, as March winds usually are thought 
to be. I have made my rounds amongst the sick, 
but feel so depressed, I can hardly account for it. 
Why can one not be happy in every and any position, 
if only satisfied that they fill a needed want ? 

But that is a problem not yet solved in man's 
philosophy, and must remain dark till the end of 
time. 



A EEELING TENT. 169 

Steward Bennett lias just come down from the 
front, detached from our regiment for hospital-duty, 
and reports our men all well, and for that I am thank- 
ful indeed. If the war is going to last forever, I 
wish they would be in some place where I might be 
nearer them, but it is impossible. "We have Grant 
at the head of this army, and they don't go into any 
camps now. 

March 12. 

The wind blows almost a perfect gale, and my tent 
sways back and fro like a man drunken with wine ; 
but I am used to that, and if it goes over I shall be 
here to see. 

After my rounds — and I sit here, lonely, and 
hardly knowing what to do with myself to pass the 
time away. This is a dreadful state of things, when 
the next sound which comes to our ears may be the 
reopening of active hostilities, and then — horror of 
horrors — there will be no time for loneliness, or lonely 
thought. 

8 



CHAPTER XXiy. 

March 13. 

Again, I went down to the darky camp, and 
washed, just for the excitement of the thing, and to 
earn my good sleej). We have lost one man with 
fever — a mere boy, from a Pennsylvania regiment. 
He was too weak to talk, althongh he manifested a 
desire to say something to me which I could not un- 
derstand. 

He died very calmly, and we closed his eyes, with 
a sigh for those who would never look upon liis face 
again. Oh for the death-bed where the last whis- 
per is breathed into the ear of those who love us best ! 
Oh for the quiet burial in the country churchyard, 
where the grass grows rank over the graves, and the 
lark builds her nest low among its tufted richness ! 

I have been on my feet all day, and am very 
weary to-night. I went over to the Second Corps, 
and then went down to the ]^ew York Relief, and 
procured six shirts, and the same number of pairs of 
drawers. So much has been crowded into this lono^, 
long day, and I am thankful for night and shadows. 
It seems like the summer evenings when I was young, 
and hopes were newly budded in my girlish bosom. 



BEINGING IN THE SICK. 171 



March 14. 



The days come and go, tliey sometimes seem to 
drag their heavy length along, then again they fly 
with the rapidity of the wind. Some time, I know, 
the swift-flying days will bring this to the end, and 
I am glad of them, and have no care ; although they 
bring to me wrinkles, gray hairs, and tottering steps, 
it will all be well at last, after our feet have stepped 
into the water of the river; there will be no more 
signs of earthly decay ; to bathe therein is to render 
life perennial. 

We have had another death to-day, and it has 
saddened me inexpressibly. We nurses should be 
insensible to anything only the performance of our 
strict duty — should have no heart to enter into the 
feelings of far-away friends — should stifle all human- 
ity in our souls, and be deaf, and dumb, and blind. 

To-night, they are bringing in the sick and wound- 
ed from the Division Hospital — they have arrived to 
the number of three hundred, many of them belong- 
ing to the ranks of the enemy. 

March 15. 

I have been to look upon the new recruits of sick 
and wounded, and find many quite low, and with 
fearful wounds. Three from our regiment, but they 
will recover. They are packing up to make a move 
at the front. How anxious we shall be now to know 
when and where, and so fearful that the great battle 
is soon at hand. 

Oh ! if I could still these heartthrobs when the 



172 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATKON. 

time draws near, and go my round as calmly as Gen- 
eral Grant surveys the great battle-plain. I would be 
content. Lieut. Bowen has been here nearly all the 
evening, on his way home, and I am yet unselfish 
enough to be glad to see any of them go. 

3Iarch 16. 

It is a beautiful morning, only a high wind 
sweeps over us, dropping down now and then to flap 
the white wings of my tent, and then sweep like a 
whirlwind around us. I had a grand night's sleep, 
and feel much refreshed. The transport Connecticut 
leaves, this morning, for Washington, with those able 
to be moved. 

Lieut. Bowen has just left, and the old homesick- 
ness creeps over me again — the old longing for chil- 
dren, and friends, and the North, now throwing off the 
chains of old winter's forging. I shall some time go — 
when, only the Good Lord knows — not while they 
need me here, if my heart gnaws itself in the strong 
agony of despair. 

How the wind raves and rages — it has never 
been so wild since I have been here, and my tent 
flutters like a hurt bird trjang to disentangle itself 
from the sportsman's net. 

The rain is drifting with it now in solid sheets, and 
my bed is soaking wet, yet I must lie down upon it, 
or sit up all night and hear the dismal howling of the 
storm. Both are bad enough, I hardly know which 
to choose. I think, however, that I w^ill go to to bed, 
and if my tent blows over, I go with the contents. 



THE BUGLE-CALL. 173 

March 17. 

After a sleepless, comfortless niglit, I am again 
astir, to find everything wringing wet. The wind 
blew fearfully all night, and the rain beat against 
my tent like strong hands clamorous for entrance. 

Two souls have gone out with the raging of the 
storm — they went np through the snrgiug of the ele- 
ments, and their bodies will be buried in wet graves 
to day. I have been my round, and am quite hopeful 
for the recovery of those left. 

I have scarcely been alone a moment to-day, and 
to-night will be a continuation of the fearful one pre- 
ceding, bnt my house holds its own — although rocked 
like a shell by the stormy waves of Ocean. I shall 
keep my light burning. 

If arch 18. 

The bugle-call roused me from a waking dream 
this morning, after another wretched night. I feel 
rheumatic in every joint of my body, and my con- 
stitution must be strong indeed to endure this satur- 
ating process with no injury. 

I am tired of the clatter, and wish it would favor 
some other portion of the continent with its prank- 
playing, and take its exit from City Point. We are 
not likely to lose any of our sick to-day. The trans- 
port has gone for another load ; they are clearing the 
way for the new instalment of bloody heroes, from 
the fresh battle-fields of this spring-time. With shud- 
dering I remember it — in fancy I see the ghastly 
procession as they are brought in, pale, bloody, and 
gasping with pain. 



174 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

Oh ! the horror of this carnage 1 When will the 
judgment come ? 

March 19. 

Is it possible that the year is nearly one quarter 
gone ? Almost one season's length has passed since 
New Year's day, and it seems only like one of the 
long summer days which seemed in my childhood to 
be endless. 

How long a year seemed then — almost an age, as 
it rolled slowly away, with bright, bright honrs when 
we roamed the meadow for strawberries, and the wild 
wood for blossoms — ^^vhen we trod with bare feet the 
pathway to the old school-house, and set them in tlie 
brook as we loitered on the way. And the seasons 
seemed to be unending. 

There was an eternity of winter when the snow 
lay deep, and we thought it would never melt under 
the breath of the lagging spring. 

Now spring opens, and goes, and summer flies 
away, leaving the sear flower-stalk a sad legacy to 
the fleeting autumn, and winter again slips over all 
her robe of purity, and the cycle ends again. Some- 
times in those years we nsed to think of war, — what 
horrible scenes were upon the battle-fields of the East, 
— but the grim phantom seemed to be afar off' from 
our proud land, but it came to us with hot and dead- 
ly breath. 

Four weary years have dragged along, and thou- 
sands of our braves sleep in the trenches, the sleep 
which knows no waking. Thousands more have gone, 



GOSSIPING. 175 

— yielded up sweet life none the less for their country 
that they died in hospitals of long, wasting disease. 

March 20. 

Oh ! the sun, the renovating sun ; the rain and the 
wind have gone, and the air is thrilled with sunshine, 
and the streets of our camp are full again. All who 
are able to get out of their beds, are at the doors, 
sitting in the light, catching the soft breeze which 
whispers of the summer. 

I have enjoyed the change from the rain and 
wind, and have passed the day quite cheerily. I have 
had company from our regiment. How all the faces 
of that noble band seem like the faces of brothers to 
me — I can call them all such, indeed, and could dare 
and do much to aid them. 

I have got to gadding, I fear, for I have again to 
record that I have been over to the Second Corps, and 
had a gossiping time with the women. ]^ow there is 
some comfort in that, of which the masculine gender 
knows nothing. It is a great comfort to know that 
others are no better than they should be, and that 
Mrs. Such-a-one has spirit enough to insist upon her 
husband passing as much time with her as at the next 
corner with a curled and perfumed Miss. It is a 
good thing to ventilate one's opinions, if they do soar 
no higher than the material things of this material 
earth, and to keep a sharp look out over your neigh- 
bor as well as yourself. 

Then again the gossiping of neighborhoods is 
hardly confined to the women, and when a man con- 



176 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

tracts tlie habit lie is away and beyond all efforts of 
the most inveterate tattler who ever lifted a tea cup 
at Madam Grundy's table, and if it is denied, I could 
bring proofs as strong as has sent many a man to the 
gallows, with his sins all on his unrepentant soul. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

^ March 21. 

This pleasant day, so like the days long gone, with 
sighing wind, and sunny air which send the homesick 
tears into my eyes, and I cannot keep them back with 
all my efforts at composure ! If I could pour out 
my heart into some sympathetic ear, perhaps I could 
find release from all this ; but there is no one here for 
me, and I must keep the sad thoughts in my own 
bosom. 

When will my girls know a mother's love again ? 
Do they think it a long ^vaiting for the cruel war to 
close ? Do they see the days go by as once they went 
with me— seasons in weeks — ages in a year ? 

March 22. 

After a sleepless night I arose at reveille^ and tried 
to write a few lines, but the wind and rain kept up 
an incessant roar all night, and the water dripped 
down on to my face, driving sleep from my tortured 
eyelids. Well, this is the poetry of campaigning. 
I sometimes think I will go home, but the first low 
wail of pain from a wounded soldier softens me in a 
8* 



178 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

moment, and I would not leave tliem for all tlie lux- 
uries of the world. 

Home ! How the word thrills through my heart 
with a joyful pang. It is an old, old word, and the 
old home may answer to it in its dilapidation, but no 
other spot is half so dear — no other roof, though lofty 
and gilded high, can draw over us the peaceful rest- 
fulness of that moss-patched house-top. 

There dwells the old father, and the old mother, 
there brothers have grown up, and gone thence into 
the world's great conflict. There childhood played, 
and youth dreamed of an unclouded future, and woke 
to maturity to find earthly hopes a cheating vision, 
and then turned again to its welcoming shelter, glad 
to escape from the rude buffetings of the stormy sea. 

How dear the memory of the old home is to the 
helpless soldier, as he moans on his hard bed, and 
cannot sleep for the pain — how he thinks if he could 
only be there^ and they who are always in his thoughts 
could minister to his wants, that health and strength 
would soon flow back into his chilled frame. 

Alas ! oh, alas ! for those who shall never see this 
earthly home again ; and why alas ! Doth not the 
promise of the heavenly home await them, with far 
exceeding loveliness, and the spirit oftimes yearns for 
it with a longing nigh unto death, and the grave lies 
peacefully under the sunshine, and they rest from all 
wars and sickness there. 

It is reported that General Sheridan is at the 
White House, but everything remains quiet at the 
front, as yet. It is nine o'clock, and bed-time, and I 



ANOTHER FIGHT. 179 

cau sleep if tlie mice and wind husli their unwelcome 
clatter long enough to-night. 

March 23. 

The wind continues to blow, rocking my tent like 
a boat on the billows ; it would not surprise me if it 
broke from its moorings in some sudden blast, and 
drifted off into the unknown water. 

I had a letter from home, and was as glad to get 
it as a child would be to see the face of its mother 
after long absence. How cheered up and hopeful I 
feel after reading it, and being assured that they wait 
and watch for me. The transport has again left with 
its load of precious sick. 

March 24. 

Oh ! for the summer weather, and the ceasing of 
these doleful March winds. I had a visit from Lieu- 
tenant French, a good friend, with whom I could 
converse at ease. 

3Iarch 25. 

"We have had a severe battle. The rebels took 
our troops by surprise, and many were killed as they 
slept. Our loss has not yet been estimated, but they 
are bringing in the wounded by scores. Our men 
drove them back, unprepared as they were for light, 
and took many prisoners. 

March 26. 

Over four hundred wounded men have been 
brought in, of which number about forty are rebels, 



180 THE NINTH COKPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

nearly all with terrible wounds. It is a hard sight to 
see them, and I feel desperate toward everything and 
everybody, and yet know not on whom to rest this 
dreadful suffering. 

I have all I can do dressing wounds, and waiting 
npon them. I am so thankful (oh ! selfish heart) that 
my brothers have escaped. 

March 27. 

Still they come in, with about fifty more of the 
rebels. They look starved and wild, but here they 
will have enough to eat, and will be cared for as our 
own men. How strange it seems to see them lying 
so close to those whom they met so lately with bloody 
intent — now all powerless to harm them, even if rage 
had not died out in their hearts. 

I have looked in upon them, and find one fine- 
looking lieutenant from a J^orth Carolina regiment 
Buffering great agony. How I pity him, and pity 
them all, and wish I could do something to comfort 
them. Strange that I should yearn toward those 
whose hands only a little while ago were turned 
toward my brothers, eager to slay them. 

3farch 28. 

The day is lovely, but 1 hardly enjoy it, I am so 
worn with constant toil. I am hungry, too, for I 
have not had time to eat, and no one to relieve me 
for a moment. I have visited nearly all the tents, 
and done all I could to make the inmates comfort- 
able. 



A BATTLE EAGING. 181 

The giin-boats are lying off liere to protect us, in 
case we are disturbed by the rebels, which I think is 
very improbable. They know we have wounded men 
from their own ranks with us, and we should be no 
great spoil. 

March 29. 

The weather continues pleasant, and the men seem 
to be doino; well. We have lost none to-dav. I have 
many things to try my patience. The doctor gives 
me orders to get things for the sick from the cook- 
house, and when I go after them I hear mutterings 
and growlings, and am denied often, while the suf- 
ferer has to go without the coveted article of food. 

I wish I could order an evacuation of that post 
by some certain ones. I think I would institute a 
new order of things without much delay. 

A terrible battle must be raging at the front ; we 
hear the cannonading like near thunder, and the bat- 
tle is so close we can hear the cheering of the nien as 
they go to the wild charge. I went to bed, but not 
to sleep ; visions of horrors too dark to portray haunt- 
ed my mind, and when sleep wooed me, the vivid 
fancy brought sounds of stifled groans and cries issu- 
ing from lips growing cold on the clay before Peters- 
burg, and roused me to full consciousness again. 

Our steward, and the steward of the Third Regi- 
ment Maryland Volunteers, made me a call in the 
evening, and after retiring, I arose, and wrote a let- 
ter, finding it impossible to sleep with my mind so 
overwrought. 



182 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

I have quite a useful little present made me by 
Ed Smith of the One Hundred and jN"inth Regiment. 
It is a mortar, and I oftentimes find occasion to use 
such an article. 

It is now ten o'clock — the cannonading is very 
heavy yet. I will go to bed again, and if I do not 
sleep, I shall rest, and I will need all my strength in 
the work preparing for us at the front. 

March 30. 

It is raining again very hard, and I can go out 
but little, for I am sick myself. I slept but little, and 
that in snatches, which seemed so little refreshing ; 
the cannonading was very heavy nearly all night. 
The result is not yet known. I have been driven out 
to go over to the Second Corps, to find a place for 
some one to sleep, and returned about dark. 

My brother and Joe Allen were in my tent for a 
short time, and the remainder of the evening I passed 
alone. 

• March 31. 

It rained all night, and is still pouring, but I slept 
well, and have been out all day, for I could not en- 
dure the silence of my tent. The wounded are 
doing well, and it makes my heart feel lighter to see 
them so. 

I have just witnessed a sight which made my 
blood boil, and my hands clencli convulsively, as if 
they were at the throat of the cruel, cruel man. A 
poor soldier, who the doctor thought was playing off, 



GETTING WEATHY. 183 

was kicked, yes 'kicked^ by a miserable man who was 
acting as captain in the Fifty-Sixth Mass. Regiment. 
I could have torn him in pieces, as a wild beast tears 
the destroyer of her yomig. I could have seen his 
heart lie quivering at my feet, while the passion was 
on me, for I knew the man was siok^ and if he were 
not, what right had that wretch to touch the sacred 
body of a man, and a soldier ? 

I wish I were out of the sight of mankind, when I 
see such exhibitions of cruelty ; my whole nature 
rises up with the hatred of revenge ; and then to hear 
them laugh over the affair when they get together at 
the dinner table! Oh, such scenes often repeated 
would turn me wild with the terrible passions which 
they stir up, like tigers in their lair. 

Ap'il 1. 

April has come, and the morning is sunny, but 
the winds, so long rampant, are loth to go with the 
dead March, and continue to moan, and shriek, and 
sigh. I have a narrow bed, and last night I took in 
a great fat Irish woman for a companion, and conse- 
quently kept awake all night for fear one of us would 
fall out of bed. She came down to see her husband, 
and left this morning on the transport Connecticut, 
with the wounded. 

Yery many have gone from the J^inth Corps, and 
many more ought to go, for the freshly- wounded are 
arriving fast, most of them from the Fifth, J^inth, 
and Twenty-Fourth Corps. We have a great number 
in hospital now, and nothing is to be heard but 



184 TUE NINTH COKPS' HOSPITAL MATRON. 

the rumbling of wagon wlieels, and the incessant roar 
of the cannonading. There is still heavy fighting on 
the left, but as yet the rebels have the advantage. 

Bed-time again. I Iiope my bed-fellow of last 
night has a comfortable cabin berth now, to repay her 
for the weary hours passed here. 

April 2. 

The wounded have come in which belong to this 
corps and the Fifth — three hundred in number — and 
all with bad wounds. The fighting continues, and 
our troops are in Petersburg, and rapidly pushing 
forward. Two from our regiment have arrived, and 
we expect more to-night. Oh, how my heart throbs 
with its anxious waiting. Who may those wounded 
be? 

April 3. 

The procession pours in constantly. "We have men 
from the Fifth, Twenty-fourth, and Second Corps, 
besides our own men, and it is almost impossible to 
give them the necessary attention. It is dreadful to 
see the suffering, and hear the groans, and know that 
you cannot ease one throb of their pain. 

We have a hundred wounded rebels, and some 
will die. All night they were coming in, and many 
prisoners have passed to City Point. One little boy 
of only seventeen years, from a Carolina Pegi- 
ment, has both legs off, and a wound in his wrist. 
How can we ever forget such sights as meet us here 
at every turn ? 



AMONG THE WOUNDED. 185 

April 4. 

I am very tired. I think I can hardly stand upon 
my feet another moment ; and then some one wants 
me, and I find I am not yet entirely exhausted. I 
have been with the wounded all day, and a part of 
the night. 

The streams still pour in, bloody and ghastly. 
Richmond is ours^ and where, Oh where is our poor 
regiment ? No one can tell me, and my heart beats 
wild with fear. 

April 6. 

We have fourteen hundred men now in our hos- 
pital. I hear their groans all the night long, and my 
work is very heavy. So still the air seems without 
the constant roar of cannon, it whispers of the ad- 
vent of peace. 

We have lost a captain to-day, and two privates. 

April 6. 

The transport has taken away some who were not 
badly wounded, but they keep the quota full as they 
come straggling in. My work is hard, but the little I 
can do seems so inefficient when there is so much to 
do. If we had a score of the good wives and mothers 
who so yearn to be with their dear ones now, we 
could do more. 

We have twenty-five hundred wounded men in 
now, some with arms and legs off, and the most 
frightful mutilations. A captain and a corporal have 
died to-day. How our grave-yard fills up with the 



186 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

liero-dnst. I have worn out my feet, as I did at 
Fredericksburg, for so many are wounded through 
the mouth, that all they eat has to be fed them by our 
hands. I had a letter from home, but hardly had 
time to be glad over it. 

April *1. 

Our President has this day honored our hospital 
with a call. It has been one of our sunshiny days, 
and in anticipation of his coming, every one who was 
able to do light duty had a share in the work of cleans- 
ing and beautifying the camp. He looked pale and 
careworn, but had a smile for every one, as with 
pleasant words he passed through the lines formed, 
and shook hands with the men, telling them they 
should all go home soon. 

He was accompanied by a number of people, who 
seemed so gay and careless that I felt a sort of con- 
tempt for them, where so many were groaning with 
wounds. 

One lady in rich garb sauntered through our worn 
walks, leaning on the arm of a Congressman, noting 
what we lacked in our appointments. My bed-tick 
dress made a sorry contrast to her costly-attired 
figure, but I looked at my hands, which were not 
afraid to touch the dirty blouse of a wounded soldier, 
and wondered if her jewelled fingers would shrink 
from the contact. 

" There should be a greenhouse yonder," she said, 
pointing out the spot, and as her companion spoke of 
the cost, said disdainfully, "What of the expense?" 



FASHIONABLE SYMPATHY. 187 

and tliere were men wlio had not had a change of 
clothing in weeks, and to whom the smallest dainty 
from the cookhouse was sweeter than could be con- 
centrated from all the greenhouses in America, beau- 
tiful as they were, and rare with perfume. 

I turned to my tent, sick of folly — sick of fashion 
— sick of that species of my sex which trailed costly 
silks and laces in the dry dust, when the help for 
which many died even, could not be given from their 
hands. 

I thought how poor the glitter of life would seem 
to me there, when hungry soldiers, with eyes holloAV 
from long suffering, starved for the crumbs which 
they threw to the dogs. I am not sure but wealth 
and position transform people into other beings, but 
if they would have rendered me insensible to the 
miseries of poor humanity, God be praised that he 
has withheld them from my hands. 

More of the wounded have gone to Washington ; 
we have enough left to tax us to the utmost, and then 
feel conscious that more should be done. Another of 
our regiment has come in, with an arm off. We have 
many officers, and I don't see why they should be any 
more trouble than privates, unless they expect the 
straps to be considered — and I don't choose to do 
that — I came out to nurse the private soldiers, and I 
wish some one who understands their cases would at- 
tend to these particular officers. The State of Maine 
has again left. ' 



188 TUE NINTH COKPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

April 8. 

The sun shines so brightly I begin to think of 
flowers, and see that others do also, by the beds of 
every shape which adorn the nooks by tent-sides, and 
b}^ the barracks, and along the walks. Corps badges 
and all manner of fanciful patterns are represented, 
and the sun is warming the tender germs, and calling 
up leaf, bud, and flower, almost unheeded in the ex- 
citement of the hour. The transport leaves on her 
daily trip, and so we drift along — waiting — hoping — 
fearing. 

April 9. 

Oh, such joyful news ! Zee has surrendered, and 
the rebel capital is in our liands. Oh ! soon we shall 
go home now — the war must be at its close. Such 
cheering from the men was never heard. Every man 
able to get out of his bed is following after the drum, 
and the cripples have hoisted their crutches, and put 
their tattered hats upon them for banners, and the 
whole camp is wild with the clatter. Home — cliild- 
ren — friends — soon we will hasten om* w^ar- wearied 
steps toward you, and bathe our souls in your rest ! 

April 10. 

I am completely worn out in body, but this joyful 
news renovates my soul, and in prospect of speedy 
release I drag myself about. There will be but little 
if any more fighting, in all probability, and the 
wounded are feeling so glad over thoughts of the 
homes soon to be seen. 



THINKING OP HOME. 189 

I have had several calls to-night, but could hardly 
hold my head up, and saw them depart vrith feelings 
of relief. 

April 11. 

I am unable to sit up much to-day, and I long for 
, quiet to think over this great joy which has come to 
us, and try to realize that home is so near, and this 
summer will not be desecrated by the slaughter of 
men. The wounded are dyi;ig by scores. Oh ! how 
sad it seems when they were so near the last. 

April 13. 

It is very pleasant, but I do not feel like enjoying 
the sunshine myself — and I am tired of this loud dem- 
onstration. Why cannot people be heart-glad with- 
out shouting, and drumming, and doing anything and 
everything to make a noise ? And then they think I 
must want to talk of what lies in my mind all the 
time, and so throng my tent to say over the same 
things, and anticipate the homeward journey. 

More men have died to-day, and our ranks keep 
full fi'om the flowing stream off the battle-fields of a 
few days ago. 

April 14. 

The cold rain is dropping sadly to-day, and our 
joy is turned to grief, for the Nation's Chief lies low, — 
stricken down by the hand of the assassin, and the 
ship drifts towards the black rocks in danger of 
foundering. The flags are at half-mast, and any dem- 
onstration which made the first days ring with the 



190 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

clangor is hushed to-daj, with the tidings which were 
borne to us. The sadness of death pervades our camp, 
and on the* eve of victory everything seems to point 
to defeat. 

Oh ! how will they bear it, and how will they fill 
his place, who with so firm and gentle a hand guided 
the helm, and had seen the old ship almost into port ? 
Life so uncertain — how little we thought who looked 
upon his pale face one week ago, that it would wear 
a heavier pallor now — the hue of death. 

But his work is finished, and a nation is in mourn- 
ing. The rain is a fitting tribute paid by this April 
day to his memory, and how could the world look 
glad with the cloud of blackness overhead. 

On my rounds I found all sad, and some strong 
men in tears, and with an aching heart I tended the 
last moments of one of our regiment, Private Carson, 
from Danby, IST. Y. 

My diary is here broken off rather abruptly, for, 
in daily anticipation of leaving, and having an oppor- 
tunity, I sent my small effects to Washington, pack- 
ing my writing materials and diary, hoping soon, and 
very soon to follow. 



CHAPTER XXYt 

I SHAEED with all the excitement of the hopes new- 
born, yet tempered by the sorrow which had thrown 
its shadows over the most joyous tidings ever borne 
to us. Yet we tended the wounded, lingered in the 
sunshine, talked of the pleasant weather, and thought 
of separations which would be hard to bear. 

I wished to obtain my pay, as it was due, and went 
up to Washington on the transport with the wounded, 
one of those bright days in April, and my " pass " be- 
ing of the regular, I expected to have lodging on the 
boat on my return, as it would be a night-trip. Call- 
ing for it near dark, I was told that to obtain a state- 
room, I must pay seventy-five cents. 

A woman on her way to Fortress Monroe occupied 
the cabin in company with me, and several officers 
were scattered about lounging on chair and sofa. I 
said to the captain who informed me, " Your sofas 
are very comfortable, I think I can rest here ;" and, 
folding my shawl, I made myself ready for sleep, bet- 
ter lodged than I had been before in months. 

Persisting in his wish to furnish me with a state- 
room for seventy-five cents, the captain soon sent a 
chambermaid |;o inquire if I was not yet ready to take 



192 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

one, and an officer, taking my refusal as tlie result of 
an empty pocket, very courteously offered to pay the 
required sum, if I would allow him to do so. 

1 said to him, thanking him for his kindness, " I 
am a government nurse, on government duty, and my 
pass calls for lodging as well as transportation, and I 
have money enough to pay the required sum, but I 
amv not disposed to humor this captain by putting 
seventy-five cents even into his pocket. My pay is 
twelve dollars a month, and rations." 

And I slept soundly on the sofa in the cabin all 
night, replying to the captain's rather impudent 
stare in the morning, that I was delighted with my 
couch, and greatly obliged to him for his kindness in 
providing it. 

Wishing once more to see the regiment before they 
broke up at the front, I went up one day in the cars 
loaded with provisions for the horses, feeling as grand 
as a queen on a bag of oats. I enjoyed my seat, 
coarse cushion as it was, and the ride was one of keen 
pleasure, for all was so quiet, and no anticipation of 
its being broken by martial sounds. 

The Thirty-Seventh Wisconsin Eegiment lay by 
our own, and as the band came out to play for us. 
Major Eaton stepped in wonder to the door of his 
tent, thinking they were doing honor to some captain 
of renown, and beholding only Aunt Becky in her 
worn and faded dress, retreated in silent awe. 

I learned of the death of Charlie Morgan, of Co. 
G, of our regiment, who was in our hospital for 
weeks, low with a nervous fever. Some days I 



THE LAST NERVOUS EFFOET. 193 

thouglit it would be impossible for him to recover, 
and took cliarge of his medicine and diet myself. 
With careful nursing, the tide of life turned in his 
favor, and^he was able to join his regiment before the 
last battle was fought. Strength and health came 
back slowly to him, but his nerves seemed bared to 
the least touch or sound, and at times he seemed to 
be going into convulsions. 

When once, as many times it did, the wild rumor 
floated down that the rebels were trying to break 
through our lines, and every patient able to carry a 
gun was ordered out a short distance from the hos- 
pital, he was so struck that I thought he would die of 
the excitement, and gave him a morphine powder to 
put him to sleep, after vainly exerting my whole 
strength to quiet him down. 

At the last battle, poor Charley was ordered up 
with his company, and was struck with the nervous 
feeling fatally, was sent to the rear, and in a few 
hours lay a corpse. 

I think it was no coward fear which filled his soul ; 
it was an absorbing excitement, which he had no 
strength to bear, and it broke the pitcher at the 
fountain. 

Our women at the same time, through fear, pack- 
ed their worldly possessions ready for retreat, and sat 
up all night in anxious expectation. I went to bed, 
desiring to be waked at six in the morning ; and as I 
had on the best and only dress in my wardrobe, I 
had no effects to worry me, and slept soundly, finding 
myself on waking undisturbed in my cozy tent. 
9 



194 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

Poor Charley liad gone beyond all danger now, and 
I mourned, because lie could not have lived to return 
home, and enjoy the sweets of peace, when he has suf- 
fered so much mental agony under the banners of war. 

Our men were jubilant at the front. The sadness 
which the death of the President had thrown over 
them, was not strong as the life which imbued those 
mortal hearts with love of home, toward which their 
eyes turned with eager longing ; and although they 
mourned him who had fallen, yet eyes were bright 
with hope, and voices glad in their joy that the war 
was virtually ended. 

I returned from my visit, on the engine, as the 
cars were loaded with wood, resuming my work like 
a child which sees its task almost done, and the re- 
ward nigh. 

We had many painful operations to perform and 
to witness. One mere boy from the Thirty-first Maine 
had a ball pass through his throat, and the flesh had 
to be cut in order to take up the arteries, and for three 
wrecks was fed through a glass pipe of the size of one 
of common clay. He would smile as I called him 
my little cut throat, and seemed very cheerful under 
his affliction. I never knew whether or not he recov- 
ered, if he did and these lines should ever meet his 
eye, he will remember Aunt Becky in her bed-tick 
dress, who used to come daily into his ward, and try 
to cheer up his drooping spirits. I think he lived, 
for Dr. McDonalds was one of the most skilful sur- 
geons in our corps, and in difficult operations was 
nearly always successful. 



APPROACHING EELEASE. 195 

Days passed, and we heard no sound of booming 
cannon. Hope built her airy castles, and we talked 
of what the summer should bring forth for us, amidst 
the peaceful hills of the JSTorth. Our gardens in the 
camp were growing with rich promise of an abundant 
yield. Peas were up many inches, and other vege- 
tables were rank and green under the April skies. 

So much we had prided ourselves on what we 
should gather from those growing ranks, that the 
order to make everything ready for "Washington gave 
a little heart-pang to us all. If the war was ended, 
we could well go, leaving everything behind us, but if 
new battles were to be fought, and new hospitals to 
grow in deserted corn-field, and on waste hill-sides, it 
would be a sad day when we left City Point, bound 
—no one knew whither. 

The regular working machinery had been wrought 
by the experience of months, and we had grown into 
the groove, and disliked to be thrown out unless for a 
purpose. 

I received from some of the boys a picture of the 
dispensary, showing the stewards and clerks, and it 
is something always to remind me of those anxious 
days. 

Our regiment, with a Wisconsin and Michigan 
regiment came down near our hospital, just before 
we left, and if ever men were joyous those were, in 
the prospect of sj^eedy release from duty in camp 
and field. 

The time drew near for our departure, and I 
had not thought it possible for me to feel so badly, 



196 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATEON. 

almost in sight of Lome, but when I bade the boys 
" Good bye," knowing that I should never see them 
again, and that in after years my memory even would 
fade from the hearts of those over whom I liad watched 
with so much anxious solicitude, I could not keep the 
tears back, and I would not if I could. 

I went up to the peaceful burial-ground on the 
hill. The fresh earth was uncovered by sod, or 
flowers, and the white head-boards bore many a name 
whose owner's soul had gone up into the presence of 
its Maker, while I stood by the bedside, and saw the 
struggle with death. 

The great field was regularly laid out, each grave 
marked with name and regiment, and here and there 
the mournful inscription, *' Unknown." I thought, 
in so many homes th,ey had waited long, and waited 
in vain for tidings from their soldier after the battle. 
" Not known to have been killed or taken prisoner," 
the letter said, and then hope struggled a little way, 
and they thought soon to hear from him in hospital, 
or from some place where death had not found him. 

Meanwhile, too weak to tell his history, he liad 
been brought with the maimed thousands to the hos- 
pital, and his life had ebbed away, and God only 
knew how to comfort those waiting hearts, which, in 
the uncertainty of his fate, should never know perfect 
peace again. 

Unknown, their bones will be gathered up when 
years hence they pile these relics of the dead under 
some huge marble, which, pointing heavenward, shall 
tell how nobly they died. 



LET THEM REST. 197 

I could not bear to think tliat these graves should 
ever be disturbed, only as friend after friend searching 
here should find the remains of the dear son, or 
brother, or comrade, and with reverent hands gather 
them up, the dust and bones, and bear them away to 
the home grave-jard, to sleep under their native sod. 

It seems a desecration to disturb in any other way 
the bones of a dead soldier. Let them sleep in the 
trenches, where the hands of comrades laid them 
down after the bloody fight was over, and piled the 
sod sorrowfully over the bleeding breast. Let them 
sleep in the solitary graves where they were laid when 
they dropped out of the line in weary marches, and 
the solemn wind playing through the tall trees which 
overshadow the lone graves shall seem a requiem 
forever chanted over the fallen hero. Wherever they 
found sepulchre, by light of the pale spectral moon- 
beams, or where the rain dropped sorrowfully into 
their shallow beds, there let the soldier await the 
sounding of the last trump. 

The embalming tent had always been a place of 
interest to me. I had obtained many a garment from 
the Christian Commission with which to replace the 
dirty, ragged ones in which the soldier died — for I felt 
it a duty to soften as much as possible the. shock of 
the return of him who went out so full of pride and 
hope. 

There were often delays in sending for the em- 
balmed dead, and one soldier's remains lay for three 
months within the tent. His name was Thomas, and 
I was beside him when he died, I used to go to his 



198 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

coffin and lay back the sheet, and wipe away the dust 
which accumulated on his hair and face, brushing his 
hair again to its old natural position. 

I thouo-ht much of the comfort which it must be 

in 

to those who loved him, to see him again with the 
look of life on his pale dead face. 

Bodies were brought here to be deodorized, pre- 
vious to transportation home — bodies which perhaps 
had been buried for months, retaining no sign of the 
comeliness which in living they wore. My own 
brother might have lain before me, and I could not 
have told him — no look which you remembered would 
be found on those blackened features, and it would 
seem poor consolation to take such a token from the 
hands of one who did not positively know the grave 
from which it was exhumed. 

There was so much room for fraud — so many un- 
scrupulous persons eager to prey even on the anxious 
credulity of sorrowing friends, and willing to do un- 
holy deeds to gratify their lust for gain. I would 
rather let the remains of a friend rest in the grave 
wherein he first reposed, than to feel the uncertainty 
which such imperfect recognition must always pro- 
duce. 

The wish to be taken home after death was a feel- 
ing strong as life with some. I never felt the neglect 
to conform to this wish as I did in the case of one 
member of our regiment, wlio had repeatedly ex- 
pressed his desire not to be left there when the war 
was over. We knew where he was buried. I wrote 
to his friends stating the embalmer's terms, and 



LAST WISH NEGLECTED. 199 

charges for coffin and transportation — had an ambu- 
lance ready engaged to bring his remains to City 
Point, from Petersburg, where he fell, and had even 
the clean shirt and drawers laid away in which to en- 
shroud him, but no order ever came. 

His own back-pay was more than sufficient to 
cover all expenses : whether his friends, from pru- 
dential motives or careless thoughts of him, neglected 
to fulfil the last request of this dead soldier, I never 
knew, and doubtless never shall. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

So mncli for us to leave — so hard it was to go 
away from tlie little tent which had brooded over me 
with its white wings so lovingly and long, that I 
scarcely believed I was glad to go home, and yet, 
contradictory soul, I was glad beyond measure. 
Whoever has felt this, let him comprehend and ex- 
plain if he can this strange complexity of feelings. 

I passed a sleepless night, and then all was soon 
over in the morning, and I on my way to Washing- 
ton, on board the Daniel Webster. When we arrived 
we found the transports which had taken up our sick 
and wounded, and thus again I saw some whom I 
had thought never more to meet on this earth. 

It was still uncertain when we were to go home — 
a delay of weeks might intervene, — we must wait 
what seemed to us in our impatience the slow action 
of Government in giving us full discharge. ISTo one 
had proclaimed yet that the war was over, yet we ac- 
cepted it as past, and every one acted in accordance. , 

I found one man in my rounds who had suffered { 
an amputation of an arm, close to his shoulder, and 
in his sleep afterward had fallen from his narrow bed 
on to the bare, unhealed stump, and was in great 



TUGGING FOE AEREARS. 201 

agony of body. He was a lieutenant from a Rhode 
Island regiment, and bore the distress with no com- 
plaint from his white lips. 

Another officer — a captain from a Pennsylvania 
regiment — was enduring great suffering, but his 
mother stood at his side, and I saw many an eye 
turned wistfully that way, as though they envied him 
his happiness even in his agony. 

I could leave him contentedly with the one who 
cradled his infancy on her bosom, and watch by 
others who had no mother near to stand by them, as 
she did by him. 

In Washington my first business was to see Miss 
Dix in reference to my pay, which I had not received 
in ten months, although I had been once from City 
Point to obtain it, and failed through the neglect of 
some necessary form. 

E'ow I needed the money sadly, and was deter- 
mined to omit no formality which would keep it still 
in reserve. 

Miss Dix ordered me to the surgeon-general to 
get my papers made out, and thence I was sent to the 
paymaster, and from him farther on, and in turn re- 
ferred back to him, as the proper person from whom 
to obtain my pay. 

Highly relishing this journeying backward and 
forward through the mud of the capital, I presented 
myself before the paymaster again, and he flatly re- 
fused to pay me, saying I was not in his line. So on 
to the surgeon-general I took my way, thinking my 
money more than earned over again, and received 



202 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

from him a positive order for tlie payment of tlie 
withheld sum bj the paymaster. 

Returning for the third time I found the office 
closed, and so went up to Bladensburg to visit Mrs. 
Youngs, and try my fortune another day. Again I 
made my appearance before the gentleman in ques- 
tion, and found him obdurate — still refusing to pay 
me. Now I was a woman, and I was footsore and 
weary, and I wanted my money, and I said, "Well, 
you look very cosy here, and I will take a chair while 
you think the matter over, for I shall not go away till 
I am paid by somebody," and I sat down, taking up 
the morning paper, my thoughts so busy with all the 
outside circumstances surrounding me, that I failed 
to notice for the space of five minutes that I held the 
paper upside down. 

Perhaps they saw defiance in my despair, for pres- 
ently the paymaster sharply ordered the clerk to see 
how much it was, and pay me, for a woman sitting 
there in the office all day, was a nuisance not to be 
endured. 

The clerk handed nie the money, and I said to the 
very gentlemanly paymaster, " The war is at its close, 
and we nurses are about to lose a good job of twelve 
dollars a month, while you will be out just one hun- 
dred and twenty, to say nothing of what you can 
browbeat out of just sucli women as myself," and bid- 
ding him '^ good-day," I left, very much to his satis- 
faction, no doubt — certainly it was to mine. 

A man in such a position can make himself so agree- 
able if he chooses, browbeating a woman, and those 



VISIT TO GEORGETOWN. 203 

women weary witli months of toil and privation in 
a hospital. If lie wishes thns to make a show of his 
anthorit J, and display, like a peacock, every feather of 
his lately grown plumage, he can rest assured he will 
betray the lovelinesss of his character in grand pro- 
portions, and we have sense enough left in our souls 
to feel it keenly. 

I went to Georgetown to see the wounded whom 
I had tended. Our corps was to be divided — a part 
at Alexandria and a part at Tenlytown, three miles 
distant. Our regiment lay at Tenlytown, and there 
I was to find my work during the remnant of my life 
in a hospital camp. 

I found many who could not eat their coase ra- 
tions — men who were slightly wounded, but who 
would not leave their comrades while it was possible 
to remain. Amongst these I soon disposed of ten 
dollars, and felt thankful that I had got my pay to 
enable me to do this slight charity. 

Eeturning to Mrs. Youngs' at Bladensburg, I re- 
mained imtil the tents were put np for our hospital, 
and in a few days was again on duty, awaiting the 
hour of discharge. We had no wounded then — only 
those sick men in our hospital at Tenlytown. 

We had the best of cooks, and everything was 
good and wholesome. We had much assistance from 
the agent of the Michigan Eelief, Mrs. Brain ard, one 
of onr country's noble women, one with whom it was 
no question, when called upon for stores, if we had 
Michigan men with us. They were all Michigan's 
men, and every State's men — they liad given the most 



204 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

they had to give for the whole country, not for one 
State alone, and her noble soul comprehended it in 
full. 

This miserable spirit which we saw so often dis- 
played, which withheld from some poor soldier what 
would have done him worlds of good, because some 
other State was his birth-place — we had but little pa- 
tience with it. 

What could it matter in the spirit of humanity, so 
long as they were Union soldiers — had been fighting 
for its preservation, and were ill and suffering in her 
cause % I often thought the country ought not to be 
saved, just to punish such miserable specimens of hu- 
manity. 

From the sanitary commission established there, 
we got many luxuries, and they did nobly for us, be- 
cause the right men were in the right place. 

I went one day to the E'ew York Relief with an 
order from the head surgeon (for red tape was not cut 
asunder yet, if the rebellion was), and the gentleman 
in charge said, " Have you any New York State men 
under your care ? " 

I replied affirmatively, and he put me off with 
some excuse, asking me to call the third day. I did 
so, accompanied by the chaplain of the Twenty- 
seventh Michigan, fully expecting to have my requisi- 
tion filled. I was suddenly dampened by the sneer- 
ing remark, that "he did not believe we had any sick 
or needed anything; he would come up and see for 
himself 

He saw in the shortening of his supply of canned 



A PEACEFUL CAMP. 205 

fruit md wine, a scantier table for himself, and I left, 
feeling as thongh emerging from a shower-bath in 
December. We went to the Christian Commission, 
and, blessings on its great human heart, we got a full 
supply of all we needed. 

Again, I saw those who reminded me of the days 
passed at City Point. Miss Blackman, from Michi- 
gan, visited me, and we talked hopefully in the dawn- 
ing summer weather, thinking of the peace which had 
so suddenly settled down upon us, that it seemed an 
unreal dream of the midnight, which the morning 
sun would dispel like the mists of the low green 
valley. 

Our camp was on a rising hill-slope — a beautiful 
place, where the hitherto untrampled sod grew rank 
and green. A little grove lay a short distance aside, 
with trees full-leaved, and wild blossoms growing in 
the tangled hollows. 

It was a peaceful place, and we soon made it 
home-like, as soldiers always try to do when pitching 
camp even for a few weeks. 

The farmers had lowing herds roaming in the dewy 
pastures, and one in close proximity to camp was 
solicited to sell us milk for our use. He was loyal, 
of course; but he would not accede to our request, 
for some unknown reason, and the temptation to have 
a bowl of bread and milk for an occasional dish, 
proved too great for the boys. They often bribed the 
negroes who had charge of the cows, and for a few 
cents they would allow them to milk the herd unmo- 
lested, although still keeping up a show of resistance, 



206 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

for effect, in case tlie owner should be watching pro- 
ceedings. 

Thns the sick had their milk without money, and 
without price, and the old farmer had to pocket his 
indignation, or vent his spite on the lax-moralled 
negroes. 

The great review took place — when the Grand 
Army which had conquered the rebellion passed under 
the eyes of the officials at Washington. The day 
was intensely hot, and many a poor fellow was sun- 
struck, who had endured forced marches during the 
long, bloody campaigns. The strain of excitement 
was over; no more rebels with death-dealing engines 
confronted them ; the artillery was tame in it^ slum- 
bering wrath, and we could look upon the grand army 
with composure now, for were we not going home 
soon? 

There were men who had just achieved the grand- 
est march of the war, and men who had lain before 
Petersburg for many long months, all met togetlier, 
with thought wandering far away from the capital 
and the soul-stirring pageant, of which they made a 
part. The roll of drums and the gleam of rifles 
waked a glow of patriotism in hearts which had 
well-nigh grown insensate with the dreadful blow 
that had been given them when some dear one fell out 
of the ranks, and his home knew him no more for- 
ever. 

May it be long and long before another such 
gathering shall be possible in the national capital. 
The great mass has melted back into the bosom of 



RESULTS OF PEACE. 207 

our country, and the pulses of industry throb faster, 
and the homes of the land are brighter for the pres- 
ence of those whom they look upon with pride and 
joy, mingled with thanksgiving. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

We were daily expecting orders to leave, and as 
Sanitary was distributing its blanks ready signed, 
giving a list of wliat still remained in their stores, I 
thought, for the benefit of our hoys^ I would give 
them a parting call, and leave something substantial 
to those who would not depart as soon as we. 

They had quantities of provisions on hand, and 
were profuse in certain qualities. I asked for things 
to distribute amongst the different regiments at Ten- 
lytown, and was refused, as I had no blanks to fill up. 
I was surprised, but I bided my time patiently, wait- 
ing to see what might arise in my favor. 

A clerk came in with several rolls of the requisite 
papers, and laid them on the table close at my side. 
One roll slipped down to my hands, as quietly and 
directly as though spirit hands had directed it, and I 
accepted it as quietly, putting it under the cloak wliicli 
I wore when riding in the ambulance, and leaving 
the place, well satisfied with my success. 

Call it not appropriating what was not my own — 
I had only taken Avhat would bring those men the 
Very comforts which had been sent to them from 



LEAVING WASHINGTON. 209 

every town in the J^ortli — and they were going to 
have their own. 

On Saturday I went over to the camp, and dis- 
tributed a supply of tobacco, combs, needles, thread, 
and nameless little things, which, being deprived of, 
add greatly to a soldier's discomfort. It was a sad 
visit for me. So long I had thought anxiously over 
them, that I could not separate them from my heart 
now ;. and when they stood in line greeting me, and 
I heard the words of thanks which one after another 
volunteered, with the band striking up its parting 
strains in the interlude, words are vain to express my 
emotions, and swelled my heart almost to suffo- 
cation. 

We left for Washington on Monday morning, 
June 12th, at seven o'clock. I could not look back- 
ward on the pleasant grove, or the green, sun-check- 
ered hill-side. I closed my eyes, and the ambulance 
rattled along, bearing me on the journey toward 
home. Bound for home ! And who ever thought I 
should go one step towards it, and not feel the joy in 
every fibre of my nature ? 

Then were thoughts of the dead left mouldering 
behind in the grave-yard at City Point, and in the 
trenches of many a well-fought field. There were 
thoughts of the tales we must tell to waiting friends, 
how those whom they held dearest on earth met the 
death which laid them low from mortal care and woe ; 
and we went not back the same exultant one thou- 
sand strong, whicli cheered Vv^itli loyal throats when 
they made the downward journey, and rebellion held 



210 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

high its serpent head. Only a little handful now — 
they had known wounds, sickness, battle, all but 
death, and were " going homeP 

The troops marched the short three miles. Those 
feet were inured to longer and harder journeys than 
this, and with glad cheering they took the cars in 
"Washington. The glorious old ]N"orth, whose sons 
had conquered, was about to receive back into her 
welcome arms, from the suiFerings of three years, the 
little band which remained of the strong host she lent 
to save the honor of the Republic. 

Two of onr regiment remained behind at Tenly- 
town, too ill to be removed — private Lester, from 
Binghamton, and private Cronk, from Waterbury. 
Both seemed to be doing well, and anticipated the 
same journey which we were about to take. But, 
alas ! for human hopes ! With the end in full view, 
all dangers and privations of war safely passed, Death 
met them in the tented hospital, and both sleep in 
the land of the stranger. 

At the depot I bade adieu to many more of my 
boys — those from l!^ew Hampshire and Massachusetts 
who would take other trains for Baltimore. It was 
hard to part with noble Fred Emmerson, who had 
been at the head of the cookhouse so long, in the 
hospital, and had favored me again and again when 
messing for the sick and wounded. 

One of the genuine good hearts which never fail 
you, he had scores of friends, and deserved them all. 

Before we started, I saw the boys piling stones 
into the cars, which 1 was sure meant mischief for 



GREETINGS ON THE WAY. 211 

some one. Hyattsville, Beltville, and Laurel they 
passed cheering lustily, but at Annapolis Junction no 
cheers went out — only the thud of the stones bound- 
ing against the houses, and then I knew it was for 
some insult long ago rendered — never forgotten or 
forgiven while they had faced death on the battle-fields 
* of Virginia. 

We had some sick, and some from different regi- 
ments on board — some three hundred were crowded 
on, without rations, and they grew ravenous as the 
day wore on, and hunger gnawed at their vitals. The 
cars moved slowly as we passed through loyal Penn- 
sylvania, which had not forgotten the sound of rebel 
artillery, and the tread of hostile feet. 

The boys would get off, while the women met 
them half-way with loaves of bread, and pies, and 
cake, and anything which was at hand, and it was 
all devoured as a hungry dog devours a bone — then 
waits for more. 

At Williamsport, in one door-way, stood an old 
wrinkled woman, dancing for joy to see us on our 
homeward way. Many looked at us with tearful eyes, 
remembering those whom they should not welcome 
back even though the cruel war was over. 

My heart was sore for them, and could hardly be 
glad with its burden of sad thoughts. We passed one 
town where the young ladies of a seminary, all dress- 
ed in pure white, came to the car-track, holding the 
stars and stripes — cheering us on our way. 

We arrived tired and hungry at Elmira on the 
morning of June fourteenth, and were soon met by 



212 THE NINTH CORPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

our old colonels — Tracy and Catlin. The boys were 
marched up to the barracks, wliere they were to re- 
main till paid, and mustered out, and then ate their 
bread and drank their coffee. 

I went to the American Hotel with the steward, 
and at eleven a. m. took the passenger train for 
Ithaca, arriving at sundown, feeling that I had won 
my rest. 

" What accommodations did you have in coming 
home ? " one acquaintance said to me, and I told him, 
"cattle-cars." Yes — cattle-cars, hardly cleansed of 
the filth which had accumulated by long and con- 
tinued use, 1^0 wonder the soldiers felt the degra- 
dation — drawn from point to point like cattle for the 
slaughter-pen. Denied air — was it any wonder that 
they thrust bayonets through the blank car sides, and 
admitted the free air and light of Heaven, if nothing 
else, into the dark noisome dens. 

It is a foul blot on the nation's escutcheon that 
her defenders should have been transported as they 
were often in condemned vessels, and on cars on 
board of which a conscientious drover would hesitate 
to consign his choice market stock. 

Who fought the battles — who endured the long, 
weary foot marches, and finally achieved the triumph 
of victory ? Not the starred and epauletted men who 
rode noble chargers, and for whose service railway 
companies and steamboat captains tendered their 
most sumptuous conveyances. Not the Honorable 
Sirs whose advent from point to point, from city to 
city, was one continued ovation, but those brawny 



EEFLECTIONS. 213 

men in dirty ragged blouses, with muskets in their 
horny hands, and knapsacks slung across their broad 
shoulders, — those men who were crowded into freight 
trains, and cattle-cars, from which light and air was 
was well-nigh excluded. They were our brothers, 
and our husbands, and our sons, each followed with 
tearful prayer— each with anxious hearts going down 
with them to the deadly peril, and throbbing with 
trembling fear for the news after the battle. 

" Would you ask for them to be conveyed on vel- 
vet upholstery to the camp and battle field ? " some 
one disdainfully asks. J^o^ sir! no, sir! — But I 
would ask for the precious freight decently ventilated 
cars — plain, even rude seats, and Vessels which are in 
no danger of foundering at sea in a gale of common 
strength. I would ask, if the companies contracting 
to transport them were too poor to furnish these, that 
the General Government at Washington sell some of 
its superfluous ornamentation about the capitol, and 
build such themselves. 

It is no light thing to those who have travelled 
over the roads in these filthy cars. I was offered a 
free transit on a passenger train through, but I chose 
to come with the regiment, and fare as well as they 
fared — and no better. 

I hope ere the next war-breezes sweep over our 
land, the nation shall know how to appreciate and 
treat the common soldier, on whom it depends for its 
splendid success. Generals, and artillery, and gun- 
boats, and fortifications are nothing unless the solid 
material of mortality man them, and in all conscience 



214 THE NINTH COEPS HOSPITAL MATRON. 

let that thinking, breathing material be treated like 
men, or else let those who are able to ride in splendor, 
on caparisoned steeds, and in rich carriages, on land 
and sea, save the nation themselves. It is worth as 
ranch to them as to the man who, not one whit the 
less noble, earns his bread by the sweat of his brow. 

To a man, I hope they would stand np to be al- 
lowed the decencies of travel in their route to and 
fro, or failing to obtain this, refuse to take up arms 
in defence of an ungrateful government, which with 
close hand withholds from the masses to lavish on 
the few rich and great. 

I may be thought bitter ; I feel bitterly on this 
subject of justice to the common soldier, wlien I liave 
had tears of agony rain back on my heart to see them 
dead and dying, treated like swine driven before the 
butcher. 

It may be only neglect, not a wilful oversight of 
Government, but if it is, it is none the less culpable, 
and asks for a remedy to be applied to all the future, 
— for the past is beyond recall. 

The last token of regard from the dear old One 
Hundred and Ninth as a body, came to me — a check 
on the bank for one hundred and sixty-five dollars, 
" in appreciation of my kindness and faithful ser- 
vices," they said, when I had done no more than duty 
bade me, and nothing but what my hand was prompt- 
ed to do for any one who wore the army blue. 

Scattered abroad — some in the South, wooed there 
by gentle winds, and gentler voices, some in the old 
homes grown doubly dear since they first went from 



AUNT BECKY'S BENEDICTION. 215 

tliem away, that band of patriots, who were like 
brothers for three long years, are separated widely 
now. 

They will never more together hear the stirring 
beat of the drum, or the boom of battle cannon, yet 
my thoughts still cling to each and every one, and in 
all the future of my life no others can hold, as they 
hold, my heart's sincerest affections and its tenderest 
regards. 

God bless them wherever they go, — ^whatever 
skies bend blue above them, — whatever flowers 
blossom at their feet. Others are remembered as the 
heart always remembers its tried and true friends — 
those who shared the toil and privations of camp and 
hospital, but the One Hundred and Ninth Regiment 
lies forever, a sacred memory, in the earnest heart of 
Aunt Becky. 



THE END. 



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